Veni Vidi
by Azraeos
Summary: HPDBZ crossover: What if Harry was a spectator at the World Martial Arts Tournament? This story is now complete.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Dragon Ball Z. They belong to J.K. Rowling and Akira Toriyama, respectively (Plus some other organisations and companies).

Title: VENI VIDI

Summary: HP/DBZ crossover. What if Harry was a spectator at the World Martial Arts Tournament?

A/N: This will not be a long story.

I wanted to write something . . . different. I have never actually read a DBZ/HP crossover, or any crossover, really, that has explored a main character from either universe just sitting, observing, and offering the reader an internal monologue ― something along the lines of possibly being amazed at what they are seeing. The World Martial Arts Tournament, therefore, seemed the perfect excuse to do that.

xxxxx

**Chapter One: Versus**

His magic had been randomly exploding in almost embarrassing outbursts ever since he'd first landed in this dimension. He didn't quite know why or, to be more precise, how, except that the laws of physics were very different here. Since he didn't much know about the laws of physics (in this world or otherwise), Harry couldn't exactly whip out a notepad and sort everything out.

Three months now.

Three months of having to deal with shattered windows, cracked ceilings, spontaneous furniture combustion, and a surrounding environment (commonly green and healthy) that sometimes changed colour, depending on his mood.

One time Harry had sneezed due to a healthy dose of pepper on his stake and baked potatoes. His hotel manager (plus the rest of the several hundred or so guests eating in the dining room) had been shocked and perplexed upon discovering that all the dishes, chopsticks, and assorted drink containers had suddenly decided to jump off tables, spattering food and drink everywhere. It was a sight to see that bald, portly man running after the rolling, jumping, skipping, shattering crockery. It was a sight to see all the guests with their eyes popping and throats choking.

People in this dimension, Harry had discovered, were easily shocked.

And a little odd.

After that, Harry had tripled his occlumency shields.

Now, everything was almost all right.

Almost.

His still had the occasional slip.

Like just now.

Where he'd accidentally exploded all the cameras on account of the fact that he'd tripped over somebody's expensive shoe.

"Bugger," he muttered, though he felt something was off about the incident. "Oh, excuse me, Ma'am. Are you hurt?"

"What a delicious accent. Tell us, are you going to be fighting today?"

Harry blinked as a large microphone was shoved into his face. The reporter, with her blonde wavy hair, large eyes, shiny lipstick, and perpetually enthusiastic smirk had, for a moment, reminded him of a younger-looking Rita Skeeter.

"No," he told her bluntly.

It was her turn to blink.

"I'm just a spectator."

She lost interest immediately and walked away, waving to her cameraman, who was busy gaping at the broken lens, to follow.

Harry felt the urge to point his wand and discreetly trip her, but felt that too petty a prank to attempt, seeing as he had the advantage. He turned back to watching the auditions instead.

The fighters, some of whom were impossibly large, had to punch a round, red, thick, mattress . . . _thing,_ in order to be able to enter the competition. So far, some had punched to phenomenal numbers ― one short bloke even going so far as to break the thing and spatter it into a wall fifty meters away.

Something a normal person could not do.

Ever.

This time Harry had found himself, along with everyone else, also gaping.

When he realised this he promptly shut his mouth.

Obviously, the surly gravity-defying haired man had access to this dimension's version of magic. Harry reminded himself that he could perform the same feat if he used his wand. So, he told himself, he had nothing to gape over.

Ten minutes past and Harry lost interest in watching the punching. He wandered out of the congregated crowd and onto a milling path, knowing that the Junior Competition was about to start soon. Although the camera incident still gnawed, persistently, at his brain, he told himself to forget it. Yes, those carrying cameras had noticed, but everyone else appeared unconcerned so why should Harry be?

He was startled to note that he was walking behind the same people who had punched those phenomenal numbers. In fact, he was striding only a couple of steps behind the short, surly man.

He could hardly help but listen.

"Android Eighteen!" one of the taller men screamed. He also had extraordinary hair. "Don't tell me the androids have been ravaging the planet while I've been dead!"

Harry allowed his head to turn slightly, then blinked.

A very, very attractive woman with veela blonde hair walked past the big man, flicking that hair as she went.

"Spare me," she drawled.

Harry was unpleasantly reminded of Snape.

A prickle, an edge, something prodded at his neck, urging him to respond.

He was being stared at.

He looked.

A tall muscular green man with house elf ears (also part of the strange group) was staring at him, sweating, and frowning.

Harry stared back.

The man blinked, lip twitching, and sweated some more. Then he looked ahead. At the corner of his eye, Harry noted the man's clenched fists.

The wizard slowed, letting the group go on, then walked again.

His mind, as well as his feet, was beginning to wander, and he couldn't afford to let that happen. Not when magic users, as powerful as what he suspected this group to be, were so close to him.

He had recently discovered that becoming invisible was a great comfort to him in an alien world with its alien customs, alien technology, and alien people. He'd been shocked to see a _Tiger Man _(as Harry had dubbed him out shopping once, and a _Bear Man_ selling used cars across the street from Harry's hotel.

Yet, they were called human and had human emotions. Perhaps, Harry had thought, while trying not to stare too hard at the Tiger Man's sharp claws, they had mutated?

Harry, however, did not become invisible now. No, he had bought a ticket and was going to sit in the preordained seat. After months of agonisingly trying to find a way back home, he had finally decided to enjoy himself and all this dimension had to offer.

Which was fighting.

People here were mental about fighting. Everything was martial arts this, boxing that.

It was, Harry reflected, very like Asian culture back in his own dimension (they even used chopsticks), except that people had mixed features and unnatural hair colours.

So Harry, in a moment of frustrated pique, had abandoned his dimension-hopping attempts and gone to the World Martial Arts Tournament.

Where he was now.

Walking.

He rather thought he should be sitting.

xxxxx

He had purchased a hot dog with tomato sauce and that sauce now dribbled from the bottom of the bun and onto his lap.

He was about to wave his hand and erase the stain when a napkin was thrust in front of his nose. Harry accepted it and thanked the previous napkin's owner, a blue-haired woman in a tight red dress who sat in the seat beside his.

She flapped a hand. "Oh, no trouble. So, who are you supporting today?"

Harry reflected that this was the second time that day that something unwanted had been pushed into his face. Then he recalled the question. "No one in particular."

"Huh?" She blinked. "You've gotta be supporting someone."

Harry reflected that this was the millionth time that day that he'd been chatted to as if he'd known everyone and as if everyone had known him. "Actually," he tried "I did hear something about that Hercule chap being the best in the world . . ." he trailed off as the woman sniggered.

"Oh no," she said, looking at him. "Don't think I'm laughing at you. Hercule is just . . ." it was her turn to trail off.

Harry suddenly had an epiphany, and it came about when he asked himself just why the woman was being so chatty. "Who are you supporting, then?"

She blushed and giggled and fiddled with her short hair, something which Harry associated only with teenage girl behaviour. "Both my little Trunks and my husband are fighting in the Tournament today. So I guess it's pretty obvious."

"Right," Harry said. "Congratulations, Ma'am."

The woman must have been expecting more of an answer from him, because she stared.

Harry turned back to his hot dog.

"I'm Bulma, by the way. Bulma Briefs."

Mentally, Harry sighed. Outwardly, he shook the offered hand. "Harry Potter."

It was as though Harry had given her permission. Within the next minute, he was promptly introduced to all her companions.

He learned that Chi Chi's husband was also fighting, as were both her sons. Little Marron's father was to be competing as well. The old man with the dark sunglass whose name Harry had forgotten "hmmed" upon being introduced to him.

Harry had never been "hmmed" before, and found it slightly disconcerting, especially as he was trying to be inconspicuous.

The pig, the floating cat, and the scarred man payed scarce attention to him.

xxxxx


	2. Odd Circumstances

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Dragon Ball Z. They belong to J.K. Rowling and Akira Toriyama, respectively (Plus some other organisations and companies).

A/N: Wow, thank you all for reading and reviewing.

I'll take this time to make a note about my other stories for those of you who read them: The Black Wizard, Little Harry, Fallen, ASDFY, and DTH will all be updated shortly or close to shortly.

Enjoy.

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**Chapter Two: Odd Circumstances**

Everything here, Harry thought to himself, was very overblown. Emotions, clothing, people . . . yes, people. Especially children. Especially children that looked like they could beat Voldemort to a squashy pulp and use him as toothpaste. Harry had long since stopped trying to hold in his reaction. What was the point? Every one else was doing the same thing.

Two little children.

Two boys.

He shook his head and, ignoring the now excessively dribbling hotdog (on account of him not paying attention enough to eat it), he stood.

He needed the loo ― and not just to relieve himself, though that was a bonus. No, he needed it for some peace and quiet. Some thinking time. Some time to reflect just what in Merlin's Beard was going on and how possible it could be that two little children under the age of ten were strong enough to . . . Harry gulped and shuffled sideways.

"Excuse me."

"GO TRUNKS!" The blue woman screamed around a funnelled hand. "How can you leave at a time like this!"

It took Harry a moment to realise that Bulma Briefs was talking to him. She sounded slightly offended. Harry mumbled "lavatories."

She frowned, but gave him some space. "GO BOYS!"

"YEAH!" Chi Chi screamed, and punched into the air. Harry narrowly avoided her fist. Though he supposed it wouldn't have hurt if she had managed to punch him, seeing as she'd been holding an extremely fat hamburger at the time. Besides a stain of sauce, beetroot, and lettuce, Harry didn't imagine it would have offered him any lasting damage.

He shuffled along, managing to squeeze past the scarred man who didn't bother to move aside.

He ignored the bald man with the dark sunglasses, but only because he didn't wish to feel as though he were being examined.

Harry unpocketed his wand and laid it flat on his palm. He had cast an invisibility spell on it months ago, so he wasn't worried about any nosy people. He still must look like a dolt, though, to be staring at his own palm as though it were the most interesting thing in the world.

He mumbled an incantation and let it spin.

"Hey, man, you're blockin' my view!" shouted a spectator. Then added, "This is the greatest match I've ever seen. GOTEN! GOTEN!"

Harry followed the direction his wand had been pointing to, which was straight up the stairs, leaving a couple of spectators to yell, "About time!"

Harry felt his face pinken.

"Oh man, do ya see that? Unbelievable!"

Harry stopped his ascent and whipped around.

Both boys were now . . . doing something up in the air. He strained his eyes. Trunks was strangling Goten from behind. Harry didn't let that awe him. The fact that the kids were flying without the aid of external objects had awed him enough already.

"Oh no!" shouted the commentator, his microphoned voice booming across the stands. "It's hard to see from down here, but it looks like Trunks has young Goten in a stranglehold. I don't know how Goten can get outta this one. Will this be the end of the match, folks?"

"Would you move!" shouted someone very close to him, and Harry had to avoid a cream puff. It spattered harmlessly beside him. He ran up the stairs.

When he reached the end he let himself breathe. _What a pushy bunch_.

Almost instantly he felt that tingling prodding again.

Slowly, his head turned to the left.

The group, the incredibly strong group, were standing next to the railing. Two more had joined them; a man with a pair of sunglasses, a turban, and a bright red cape, and a short spiky-haired girl with violet eyes.

They were all staring at him.

Harry couldn't help but stare back.

This action prompted the green man to stiffen and look down.

The big man with the wild hair blinked at him.

Harry turned and walked in the opposite direction. Whatever problem the green man had with him . . . he must be clairvoyant or something. Somehow, he was sensing that Harry didn't exactly belong, and wasn't liking it. But Harry was curious as to why that was. He could easily find out. No doubt the group would talk about him out of hearing distance. Subtly, he cast an amplifying spell on his right ear, one that would allow him to hear only what he wished.

A few minutes later as he left the stands, walked down another set of stairs, and entered a sort of shack he distinctly heard, "Is he the one you were talking about, Piccolo?"

"Yes."

"Is he really that powerful?" a new voice asked. Harry had a feeling it belonged to the short man.

"I, I don't know," said the deep voice, now strained. "I've never felt energy like his before. It's as if he's constantly using it. And it just became stronger in the last two minutes."

_Energy? _What were they talking about? Was that their way of saying magic?

He froze.

_In the last two minutes? _

In the last two minutes Harry had cast an amplifying spell. Had the green man, perhaps, felt it? And what had he meant by "he's constantly using it"? Harry wasn't constantly using his magic. But magic _was_ apart of him, ingrained in his blood . . .

"Stronger?" more than one person shouted.

"What d'ya mean, Piccolo?" said a new voice. It must have belonged to the cape man.

"I don't know. I don't know if he's just weak, or if he's extremely powerful. I told you, I've never felt energy like his."

There was a humph, and a newer, deeper, raspier voice joined the others. "He's not fighting in the tournament. He must be a weakling."

"I don't know, Vegeta. If Piccolo feels something . . ."

Then, "Goten is a Super Saiyan? Oh man! Wow! And at his age, too!"

xxxxxx

He was walking out of the shack, having just finished with the lavatories, when he almost bumped into them.

They being a short purple man with a white mohawk and his over large, magenta companion.

All three stood and stared, Harry in response to the staring he was being subjected to.

As he looked into those black, slanted eyes, he felt a shiver down his spine.

Pressure.

Years.

Tens of thousands of hundreds of millions of years pressing down on him. Infinite knowledge. Infinite wisdom. Harry felt miniscule. He was not important. He was an ant compared to this being. No, not an ant . . . a dot of dust. This being was the largest mountain in the world, and Harry was a dot.

The man blinked and the feeling past away so quickly Harry believed, for a moment, that he had imagined it.

Without saying a word, both beings side-stepped him and continued walking.

Harry, not being able to help himself, turned around to look at them ― and was startled to see that the purple man was already staring at him. Those black eyes had narrowed.

Harry shivered as that feeling cropped again. Quickly, he strengthened his mind shields and it subsided instantly.

The man's eyes became even more suspicious, if that were possible. But he finally looked away and Harry could breathe.

The wizard turned back to the front ― and almost jumped out of his skin.

The odd group were now twenty meters ahead on the path, also staring at him. It was clear to Harry that they had witnessed everything from the moment he'd stepped out of the shack.

Again, the green man's fists clenched.

Harry silently recast the amplifying spell as he walked to the side, crossing the grass and back into the stands.

"Are you all right, Piccolo?"

Piccolo growled. "It doesn't make sense."

"Yeah," said the short man, voice shaking. "Just what we need. Now there's three of them."

"No," said Piccolo. "Don't mistake the young one as anything compared to the other two. His energy is completely different. The other two feel familiar, at least."

"But . . . they seemed like they really know each other," said the big, wild-haired man.

"I don't believe so," Piccolo said.

Harry, listening to them, was completely baffled. Just what was everybody's problem? He didn't sense anything unusual in anybody ― except the purple man, and that only because of occlumency, but the other was also skilled in that art, judging by how fast the strange, heavy feeling had subsided that first time. But everybody else . . . How in Merlin's name were they sensing him? He was using occlumency; they shouldn't have been able to sense him.

He continued thinking about it right up until he was sitting next to Mrs Briefs once more.

He had not reached a viable explanation and, since he felt like a snoop listening in on their conversation, he had taken away the amplifying spell so he had no knew information to work with.

"Oh, you missed it!"

He blinked. "Pardon?"

"My little Trunks won!"

Harry couldn't help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. "Congratulations."

Mrs Son, sitting two seats down, frowned. "You're boy only won because he cheated."

Mrs Briefs whirled around. "What?"

Harry intervened before it could escalate. "So when is the adult tournament starting?"

It worked. Mrs Briefs checked her watch. "In fifteen minutes," she said happily.

The scarred man, who was now sitting beside her, gave her a nudge. "You're sure in a good mood."

"Well Trunks did win the junior competition, and Vegeta is going to win the adult tournament. Father and son winning on the same day . . ." She giggled. "You bet I'm in a good mood."

Mrs Son frowned some more and took a bite out of her bun. "I doubt anyone could beat my Goku."

"What! I'll have you know my husband as been training for the past five years!"

"My husband is a whole lot stronger than yours!"

"Really, and is that why he wears that halo!"

Harry spent the next five minutes shocked to his toes as the two women argued their socks off about whose husband was the better fighter. This time he didn't attempt to intervene, as he'd seen what had happened to the scarred man when he had tried.

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	3. Wizards and Spells

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Dragon Ball Z. They belong to J.K. Rowling and Akira Toriyama, respectively (Plus some other organisations and companies).

A/N: Thanks to everyone for the wonderful reviews. And thanks to those who took the time to read.

I should also probably mention that some of the things Bulma and the rest said in the last chapter are actually taken from the TV series. Sometimes directly, sometimes not. Again, those who are rabid fans of Dragon Ball Z will recognise similar quotes in this chapter.

I'm also not going to mention how Harry has arrived in the DBZ dimension . . . yet. I need for those who are frustrated about that to be a bit more patient with me. Everything _will_ be answered. Remember this is going to be a fairly short story, so you won't need to wait long.

Enjoy!

xxxxx

**Chapter Three: Wizards and Spells**

Harry had bought himself another hotdog by the time the adult tournament started. That, and a bottle orange juice, which _looked_ like pumpkin juice at least if it didn't taste like it.

At the commentator's announcement, the first contestants walked into the arena and ― Harry spat out a mouthful of bun into the hair of the person sitting in front. The man was _huge_! Topping way over nine feet. He was almost bigger than Hagrid who, being a half giant, was easily the biggest person in the world. And the man's competitor, one of the strong men (Krillen), was tiny compared to him.

_He won't win_, Harry thought, shaking his head a little at the difference in size. _He's too small._

But then he remembered what this man had punched. Something like 210. _And didn't that Hercule guy only punch 137, and _he's_ supposed to be the strongest in the world?_

Just what was going on here? None of this made sense. How could the strongest person in the world receive one of the lowest numbers, yet all these people who nobody had ever heard of punch the highest?

_Krillen will win_. And this time, Harry was sure.

Sure enough, one simple punch and kick later the giant man soared over the ring and fell flat onto the concrete pavement. Completely knocked out.

"How is that possible?" Harry muttered to himself as the cheering and subsequent victory song (courtesy of the band) started. "No human can be that strong. Is he a vampire? Do vampires exist here?"

He knew it was day, but by automatics more than anything else he still looked up at the sky to confirm.

Vampires didn't come out during the day.

_At least vampire's back home don't._

And that was the rub, wasn't it? Harry was in a different dimension now. Perhaps most people here were super strong?

Thinking back to those pathetic little kiddies in the Junior Division that couldn't so much as lift a foot ― and when compared to Trunks and Goten . . . well, Harry supposed didn't really believe that people here had super strength.

Then he thought of the Bear Man and Tiger Man and how he'd first assumed they were mutated humans. Surely other humans were mutated, then? Mutated into super strength?

_Yes, that must be it._

Harry felt a lot better after thinking that, and settled in to watch the next match.

The large green man (Piccolo) who Harry suspected was clairvoyant and the purple man with the white mohawk walked into the ring.

Harry sat up at this. _What about that purple man, then?_ said a voice. He's exceptionally old. Old in the millions. That was what Harry had felt looking into his eyes. Surely _he _wasn't mutated.

_Perhaps he's an alien? _came the brief thought, and Harry laughed at himself.

Even if he was, no one creature could live that long.

Besides, he hadn't felt alien. He'd felt . . . well he'd felt almost not there. But there at the same time. As if he didn't really belong, but did belong. As if he belonged more than anyone else did.

Harry shook his head. He was giving himself a headache.

_Just watch the match, Potter. That's what you came here to do._

But there was no match to watch. While Harry had been lost in his internal monologue, Piccolo had forfeited.

Nobody was too pleased at this. Some chucked old hotdog wrappings and cans at the commentator who dodged heroically at the side of the ring, looking fearful and perplexed.

"Just . . . uh . . . bear with me people, uh, please?" Then he quickly announced the next competitors, one of whom was someone named Videl who seemed to be very popular, especially with the police. The men in blue made up the band that was playing off to the side of the stands, and they started up a song as the spiky-haired girl walked into the ring with her, again, overlarge competitor.

Was everyone here just too huge? Admittedly the girl wasn't, but everyone else was . . . except maybe Krillen.

As the match progressed Harry told himself to stop it. He would never get his speculations answered unless he personally went to meet the strange group, but that would never happen.

Bulma offered him some of her popcorn. "Please have some."

"Thanks," Harry said, surprised, and took a handful. Everyone here was, not precisely friendly, but . . . open, was the word he was searching for. It was as if, because they had people here who could punch through walls, they didn't need to be afraid of anything. They had city protectors, too. Harry had heard rumours about some Lemon City (or was it Orange?) that had its very own superhero. Sand Man, or something. He'd thought the rumours stupid at first but now, after seeing Trunks, Goten, and some of the older fighters in the tournament acting like Supermen on Pepper-up Potion . . . well he had to rethink, didn't he?

He would just have to accept it he supposed, and quit thinking and evaluating. Perhaps he should try coming up with a plan to get home instead.

_Later, when the tournament's finished. I came here to enjoy myse ―_

_THWAP!_

Harry turned. His mouth opened in horror. Spopovitch had punched Videl so hard that she'd flown over the side of the ring.

She was also floating.

Hearing a shout, Harry allowed his eyes to flit to the side of the stage and beyond ― to the shack that hosted the competitors. Beside a large wooden sign written in red characters that Harry couldn't hope to decipher not in a million years, the young caped man with the dark glasses and turban (which, Harry could see now, was just a white T-shirt) was cheering her on. Harry distinctly heard. "Thatta girl! You know, I taught her that little trick."

The match continued. Harry and the rest of the crowd wincing indeterminately every time Videl got punched or kicked or thrown or stepped on by her clearly obviously insane opponent.

And she _still_ wouldn't give up. Harry found himself admiring her. If half the people back at Hogwarts had her gumption they would have won the war with the Dark Lord ages ago. Come to think of it, all Harry had to do was lock seven-year-old Goten in a room alone with Voldemort. There would be no question as to who would emerge the victor.

Videl suddenly aimed a twisting kick at Spopovitch's head.

The crowd heard a spine-shivering crack!

The giant's head had twisted one hundred and eighty degrees. His neck was broken. He was dead. Harry didn't need to see him keel over to be able to tell that.

"Oh my," Chi Chi gasped, hands covering her mouth.

"Oh no," said Bulma.

"She didn't!" Harry heard off to the side.

The whole crowd was gasping.

"Ah . . . Spopovitch is . . .dead." The commentator, behind his dark glasses, looked slightly ill. "Unfortunately, that means Videl is disqualified."

Silence abounded. Videl looked shocked, disgusted, terrified.

Suddenly, a hand twitched.

Harry leaned forward, not believing.

"No way!" shouted the cape man.

"Ahhggh!" the commentator, as well as half the crowed, screamed. "This isn't possible! I don't know how, but it looks like Spopovitch has gotten better . . . again."

Spopovitch stood up, righted his head, and leered nastily at his opponent.

He rushed her.

Videl, not wasting a moment, shot up!

The crowd, gaping, followed her ascent into the air.

"That's it Videl, just stay up there!" The cape man shouted. "Catch your breath!"

At this point Spopovitch must have decided he was getting lonely on the ground and casually started floating, growing speedier and speedier as he went.

The poor girl looked horrified.

The cape man yelled, "He's flying!"

It was then that Harry decided he had to do something. This wasn't a match anymore. This was one insane man's (was he a zombie?) attempt at mutilation. Spopovitch could have ended the match ages ago, but he hadn't let Videl fall over the side of the ring that second time. No, for some horrible reason, he _wanted_ her to suffer.

With the utmost discretion, Harry pointed his invisible wand, aimed, and shot the petrification curse at the bald giant.

He froze instantly. Hovered for a second. Then fell.

Like a stone.

_Bom._ His body hit the ground with the sound of a deep echoing barrel.

Everyone stared.

"What . . ." the commentator began, microphone twitching, ". . . j-just happened?" He cleared his throat in an attempt to sound professional once more. "Ladies and gentlemen, it seems Spovovitch ― impossible though it is to believe at this point ― has . . . fainted. I don't know what could have . . . Unless, unless he's really dead now . . . ah . . . can someone check?" He looked around, as though hoping for somebody to volunteer. Then he gulped. "Oh, that's my job."

He hopped into the ring. Moved twitchily forward. Experimented a bit with his foot, and tapped the giant's shoulder.

"Well he certainly looks deaAHHHH!" He jumped back. "His eyes are moving!"

Harry noticed the cape man lean forward, mouth gaping.

Then the impossible occurred. Spopovitch sat up.

Harry's mouth opened wider. "That's not possible!"

"We all know that," said the scarred man, Yamucha, from two seats away. He was frowning down at the ring. "This whole match has been impossible! I don't understand anything!"

"No, I meant about the cur ― er, good point."

That had been close. As Harry turned back to look at the match, his eyes collided with the old man's sunglasses. Harry straightened. Looked. Then drew away.

He was so . . . creepy. Worse than Snape. At least with him Harry knew when he was breathing down his neck. This old man, Roshi, was subtle about it. Harry had no doubt that Roshi had been watching him through varying periods during the last three matches.

He shook his head. Now was not the time to think about that. He turned back to the match, still unable to believe that Spopovitch had broken out of the curse. Without a wand, no one could do that. Something definitely strange was going on. And Harry would get to the bottom of it. The poor girl, Videl, deserved that much at least.

As the giant rushed once more into the air Harry pointed his wand. "Legilimens."

Spopovitch faulted in his ascent, stopped, and clutched at his head. As for Harry . . . hundreds of images pored into his mind, of Spopovitch's life. He saw a small red-headed boy training in a dojo with an older, red-headed man. He saw the same boy bullying a bunch of kids at school. Teenager now. He saw him beating people up, stealing their money, stealing a car. Cheating in a tournament. Adult now. He saw him fighting an afro-haired man. Spopovitch's memories supplied the name, though Harry knew who it was. Hercule. Harry saw Hercule defeat Spopovitch. Harry felt the humiliation as though it were his own ―

He jerked in his seat.

A face had appeared.

A disgusting green insect looking thing which cackled madly. He wore a cape . . . and robes?

Harry blinked as realisation intruded, and cancelled the Legilimens spell.

Spopovitch was under something not unlike the imperious curse.

He was being controlled by a wizard.

No wonder _Petrificus Totalis_ hadn't worked properly.

xxxxx


	4. Holding Your Nose Might Help

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Dragon Ball Z. They belong to J.K. Rowling and Akira Toriyama, respectively (Plus some other organisations and companies).

A/N: It's been a while hasn't it? Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read, not to mention review, this story.

Enjoy.

**Chapter Four: Holding Your Nose Might Help.**

Videl had lost. Not surprisingly. Spopovitch had been under a spell, and not only that, but some sort of energy-expanding charm had been placed on him; a charm that apparently disallowed its recipient to die and gave him enormous, unlimited amounts of strength.

Harry, with his seeker eyesight, had also noticed the faint purplish pink aura that had surrounded the bald man as he'd pummelled Videl into the ground. He'd took note, wondered, and saved it for further inspection.

It occurred to him now, perhaps too late that, since these people were clearly magic users, he should ask for their help. After all, any and all attempts Harry had made at getting back to Hogwarts and home had been fruitless. Or, even worse, hazardous. He'd had to think quite fast and eject a few quick memory charms when his hotel room started burning furiously two nights ago.

Not to mention that whole incident the previous week with the honeymooning couple in the room next door. He shuddered now, remembering that. There'd been little plastic packets and black unmentionables flying everywhere. He shuddered again. No, that had not been a good night for him. Luckily he was a wizard with an expert knowledge of defence spells and memory charms.

" . . . is going on?" said a loud teenager sitting a few rows below and to the left of Harry, tilting his head in an attempt to better see the stage. "When are they going to start?"

Yes, that was right. The caped man, Say-man or something, was supposed to be fighting that great magenta bloke, Kabito, but had suddenly run off without an explanation. No . . . that wasn't right. He'd had an explanation. He'd gone to give medicine to Videl.

"Soon," Harry answered boredly, even though he'd known the question hadn't been so much aimed at him as in general. He doubted the boy had even heard.

Which is why Harry received a surprise when the boy snorted and tossed back his long blonde hair. "It better start soon. I paid good money to see this. After what happened to Videl . . ."

"Sharpener!" said a girl sitting to the boy's left. Also blonde. "How could you say that? Videl is in the hospital. I mean . . . she could die."

Sharpener somehow managed to look sheepish, ashamed, arrogant, and cool all at the same time. "Yeah? Well if The Great Sayiaman is giving her medicine, I'm sure she'll just walk out any minute now."

"God, Sharpener, you really are bitter aren't you?"

"He broke my camera!" yelled the boy, going red in the face.

Harry suddenly found the sauce stain on his left shoe very fascinating.

"Huh?" the girl said.

"Yeah, that's right. He broke my camera. _And_ he has a secret identity, which, for some reason, I can never find out." He clenched his fists. "_Why_ can I never find out!"

"God, calm down. You're drawing attention to us!"

"Yeah, well if that guy had been minding his own business . . ."

They both looked Harry's way.

He tried for a smile.

The boy snorted and faced the front.

_Well, when you're loud enough so that the next world over can hear you . . . _Harry thought to himself.

"You know," Harry heard the girl say, "he's kinda cute."

Sharpener mumbled incoherently.

"If I hear one more bad word about my boy . . .!" said Chi Chi suddenly.

Harry started. In all his listening, he hadn't payed attention enough to realise that other people had no doubt heard the whole conversation as well.

"Chi Chi calm down," Bulma whispered, laying a hand on her friend's shoulder. "You can't go saying stuff like that. They don't know it's Gohan, do they?"

"Gohan?" Harry questioned without thinking.

Bulma and Chi Chi started waving their arms about and laughing very, _very_ falsely. "Ha-ha, did I say Gohan?" said Bulma, "I meant Toe-han!"

Harry said flatly, "Toe-han?"

"Yeah, you know," said Yamucha, leaning forward. "Toe-han, as in the new brand of sports shoe. I'm promoting them. I have to. It's part of my, ah, contract."

"Contract?"

"Yamucha used to be a baseball player," Bulma offered.

"Right. That explains everything. You know, I think I saw that label somewhere before."

They all three laughed once more. This time in relief.

Harry, however, was completely bewildered. _Could they get anymore transparent? _They didn't honestly think he'd bought that load of hogwash, did they? Obviously they did because they were getting right back to what they were doing before; staring at the empty arena and munching on their snacks. Though the old man, Roshi, had turned around to briefly stare. Harry had ignored him.

He sighed. Everyone was right, though. When _was_ the match going to star—?

"Hey, watch where you're shakin' that thing!" said a voice above Harry.

He turned around in order to see the commotion ― and was hit in the face with spatter of black pepper.

What idiot brought pepper with them to a martial arts tournament?

He wiped furiously. Tried not to breathe. But it seemed that not breathing wasn't going to help this time. There was either too much pepper, or it just didn't matter, because Harry could feel it coming. Strongly. Oh. Oh no . . .

xxxxx

If the competitors shack could think it would be feeling as though it had a very mild stomach ache right now. Somewhere in the digestive area.

Subtle threats pervaded in the way of eye moving, whispering or, in Vegeta's case, leaning against the wall and looking very untroubled. Which, to some there, could be construed as an insult. Many did take it as an insult, but were disinclined to do anything about it. Perhaps it was the way the little man seemed almost silently dangerous ― like a wild cat that stalked you out of your wits and then pounced. Perhaps it was nothing more than sportsmanship; preferring to wait to battle it out in the actual arena.

And there was the goofy man with the wild hair who looked like he might have belonged in a circus somewhere, dumping cream pies in the face of another clown. How dare he look so . . . okay with everything? As though he were only waiting in line for the supermarket, not waiting for his turn in the greatest martial arts competition in the world.

And the rest of them . . . well, they were just as bad.

Piccolo, having just found out about the Supreme Kai, was caught between awe at being in the presence of such a being, and fear at pondering what reason could have brought said powerful being here, to Earth.

Krillen, now having completed his match, was doing his best attempt at a sleeping rhinoceros. His wife almost mimicked Vegeta but, as she was far more attractive, many there did not sense the brewing power beneath her cool façade.

And they all seemed to be in some sort of big group. Like they were better than everyone else there.

Yes, that was what the shack would have been feeling, if it could think. But the shack couldn't think, so it was up to its inhabitants to do it.

"I hope Videl's better," said Goku.

"Ah, she'll be fine," said a newly awakened Krillen. "Sensu beans can cure anything."

Goku ruffled the back of his hair. "Yeah, I guess I forgot about that."

"Can't blame you. Being dead and all . . ."

They laughed.

Piccolo's lip twitched in frustration. Those idiots. How they could not sense the awesome power standing behind them was beyond his ken. His gaze drifted to Shin. _The Supreme Kai. Unbelievable. What is he doing here, on Earth? What could have brought him here? _

A thousand scenarios, all unpleasant, filtered through Piccolo's head.

And then there was that boy; that strange boy with the almost Saiyan hair and an even stranger scar. Piccolo felt certain that boy was the reason, or at least one of the reasons, why The Supreme Kai had chosen to come to Earth. There were too many variables in place. It could not be simple coincidence.

Goku stretched. "Man! I wish Gohan would get back already!"

Vegeta smirked. "Hmmph. Feeling impatient Kakarrot? You'll soon wish you weren't."

Goku laughed, but there was a hint of a challenge in it. "I don't think so, Vegeta."

The prince merely stared back.

Inwardly, Piccolo did some harrumphing of his own. Those two would destroy the entire arena by the time they were finished. And he wasn't sure which one would win either. Vegeta's power was now on the level Gohan's had been seven years ago, and Goku's . . . he wasn't sure what Goku's power level was now. In fact, he'd never been posi ―

"ACHOOOO!"

The ground shook.

"Woah! Do you guys feel that?"

Krillen's question was redundant. They had all felt it. A tremendous burst of raw power, lightly tingling, warm and vibrant.

"It's that kid," Piccolo said quietly.

Screams of shock and surprise erupted suddenly from outside. As one, all competitors looked to the arena.

The stands were all empty except for one lone black-haired figure who still sat, looking guiltily up into the sky.

Everyone else was floating. Including Kabito. The energy he was expending told Piccolo that he was trying to fly back down, but somehow, he couldn't. Almost like there was a barrier placed around his energy, preventing him from doing so.

Next to Kabito the announcer hung upside down with his microphone cord dangling. His voice boomed over the stands. "AHHHHRGGH! DON'T PANIC, PLEASE! I'M SURE THIS IS ALL . . . I'M SURE THIS CAN ALL BE EXPLAINED. SOMEHOW!"

Piccolo cast a quick glance at The Supreme Kai. He should know what was going on. He did not expect to find mild shock in the purple face. _Does he know who the kid is?_

Shin caught his look. "No. I do not."

Piccolo gaped. _But, you're The Supreme Kai!_

"I said I do not know who he is. That does not mean I don't know where he comes from."

"So you do know him?"

"In a manner of speaking. His dimension is known to me, even though I have never visited."

_Dimension?_

"But what I cannot understand, is how he ended up here. It should not have been possible."

"What do you plan on doing?"

"If time permits it, I would like to speak with him. He may be of greater help than I had anticipated. His coming here, right now and on this planet, could not be mere coincidence."

_I only understood half of that. What does he mean by "of greater help"?_

"You'll find out soon enough, Piccolo."

Piccolo flushed, frowned, and looked down. "Of course."

As one they turned to watch the commotion outside, which had settled down somewhat since their talk. Half the crowd were back in their seats, while the other half were still floating.

xxxxxx

_Merlin . . . _

This was even worse than Harry had imagined it would turn out. He'd thought the stage at most might change colour. Perhaps even become multicoloured, but he'd underestimated the power of his sneeze, which sounded as though an elephant had blown straight through the biggest brass instrument in the world. Evidently the more powerful his sneeze, the more powerful his magical outburst. And this sneeze had been particularly strong. He'd felt it all the way to his toes.

Now he was busy concentrating on directing the people down while trying not to look like he was doing just that. Already he'd put down half on his side of the stadium which, hopefully, would make him less susceptible to any prying eyes as most of the people had been too busy screaming to pay attention to the fact that he hadn't floated up with them. Now he concentrated on the other half ― Merlin, one memory charm just wasn't going to be powerful enough this time ― and tried to make his hand look as though it were waving at some supposed person opposite.

When, at last, it was all over Harry slumped in his seat. Luckily, no one seemed to have noticed anything peculiar about him. They had all been too busy gossiping bewilderingly about what they had just experienced.

The announcer, now standing upright in the middle of the ring, smoothed down his suit and cleared his throat. "I THINK WE CAN ALL AGREE THAT WAS A _LITTLE_ BIT UNUSUAL. BUT HEY, IF THE EARLY MATCHES WERE ANY INDICATION, I THINK WE CAN EXPECT MORE OF THE SAME IN OUR NEXT MATCH: KABITO VERSUS THE GREAT SAIYAMAN!"

As the cheering started, Harry had to applaud the blonde commentator. Not just because he had halted the gossiping ― which may have revealed something about Harry if by some chance someone _had_ noticed something ― but because he had also neatly avoided a potential riot.

As Gohan walked into the arena, he whispered something into the announcer's ear.

"REALLY," said the blonde man, and straightened. "_HEM._ I'VE JUST HEARD SOME NEWS FOLKS! SAIYAMAN TELLS ME THAT VIDEL IS GOING TO BE _OKAY!_ JUST WHAT WE NEED TO HEAR AFTER SUCH A HARROWING EXPERIENCE!"

Everyone cheered and the band started up immediately.

Harry shook his head in amazement at the bizarreness of these people. It was as though nothing had ever happened. As though they hadn't just floated up several feet and hovered for three minutes. But what was he complaining about? It could only benefit him.

"That _was_ a little strange," Bulma agreed, even as Harry tried to make himself look smaller by slouching. "And I bet it has something to do with our husbands. As usual."

"Mm-hmm," Chi Chi nodded.

"No. You're wrong, Bulma" said Roshi, looking directly at Harry. "It had nothing to do with Goku or Vegeta."

"Huh?" Harry heard, though he wasn't sure who had said it. He couldn't, however, fail to note the half a dozen curious faces turning towards him.

Evidently, someone _had_ noticed.

_And it just had to be the old man, didn't it?_

xxxx


	5. It's Truly, Spectacularly, Bizzare!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Dragon Ball Z. They belong to J.K. Rowling and Akira Toriyama, respectively (Plus some other organisations and companies).

A/N: It's been AGES since I updated this. Fortunately, after one comment from a frustrated reader, I decided I seriously need to get off my bottom and get on with it. There isn't much more left to this story so I seriously need to stop procrastinating.

Thank you _asdfasdf._

A/N2: Ahem . . . it's been a LONG while since I've watched DragonBall Z, and I've tried finding transcripts of the episodes on the net — to no avail. I _KNOW_ I'll get some things wrong. It frustrates me to no end as well. Bear with me please, people. As it happens, though, I took some notes way back when I started writing this story so at least I have something to fall back on. Hopefully it'll be enough.

A/N3: Oh yes, one other thing . . . THANK YOU to all those who reviewed and stuck by me in my time of procrastination. This chapter is dedicated you.

On with it!

Enjoy.

xxxxx

**Chapter Five: It's Truly, Spectacularly, Bizarre!**

Harry's first step in another dimension followed the beginning of his exiting Number Four Privet Drive. He still wasn't exactly sure what had happened; simply that he had taken a step out the front door, trunk in hand, watched a brilliant white light hit him on the temple, and vanished.

It was only after wondering a desert for the better part of two, sweaty hours (after trying unsuccessfully to apparate) did he think to rest, plop his feet on the nearest dry boulder, and discover the remnants of what looked like a wonky sort of time turner embedded in the heal of his left trainer. Glistening purple sand covered three centimetres worth of rubber, and cracked glass the other two and a half — the only clues he had to help him get back home.

_Voldemort, obviously, is responsible_, had been his conclusion at the time.

But the question Harry couldn't answer was why? Why simply send Harry to a desert? Admittedly he couldn't Apparate (it was only later that he discovered he actually could; not being able to before because of his body trying to process the change between the different energies of the two dimensions — Apparation taking a lot of power), but he could use a point-me spell. He could transfigure a rock into an owl and make it deliver a letter. He could create a portkey from that lizard sunning itself next to his feet. He could do a whole host of things, all of which would get him to Hogwarts one way or another.

Of course it was only later that he discovered — after one more attempt at Apparation, where he'd landed in the middle of busy shopping centre — that he had somehow, impossibly, against all laws of basic magic, ended up in another dimension.

His first clue had been the chopsticks: _Must just be a Chinese Festival_ had been his flitting thought.

His next clue had been the technology: _Wow, muggles have really come far since I started Hogwarts,_ had been his second thought.

His last and final clue had been the people: _Great Merlin's Underpants that man's a dog!_

After this realisation Harry had calmly sat down in the food court, staring at a spot of day-old sauce mouldering steadily away on the table. He'd wondered about a lot of things — most of which consisted of Harry trying to convince himself that what he'd seen had been an illusion of some sort, perhaps a costume; until a winged dinosaur had walked past and nobody seemed to pay any attention to it.

Harry had gone back to staring at the stain.

Twenty minutes later, he'd fainted.

He had awoken in the nearest hospital, thinking he'd get arrested for his lack of existence with the government, and prepared to place some very heavy memory charms — only to find out that this dimension was lax about such mundane things like existence and that aliens occasionally attempted to take over the Earth. An innocuous thing for his nurse to prattle on about, perhaps, but she was the one who had provided Harry with a wealth of information without his even having to ask.

Gold, fortunately, turned out to be an inter-dimensional language, and Harry was able to pay for a moderately suitable hotel room after his concussion (from hitting the corner of the table whilst fainting) had gone away, and after he'd been given the _all's clear_ (and a telephone number) from his nurse.

Harry had decided some hours later to explore his temporary home; a bad idea, as it turned out. For the first time since entering the new dimension his magic had spontaneously combusted. He had just tripped over an uplifted bit concrete in the city's centre, only to find that he'd turned all the people in the nearest three cars into a pre-historic fish of unidentifiable origin. Some hasty wand-work of Dumbledoric proportions had avoided any nasty scenarios: fish on land equals death, and so forth. And Harry had been able to walk away from the incident without too much bother.

He'd locked himself in his hotel room for three days after that incident, working on grounding his magic, centring himself using Occlumency, until at last he'd felt almost certain that he could rejoin the world as another human being.

He'd often had to work to conceal his "accidents" as he'd taken to calling them. Fancy wand-work and quick memory fixes had always worked in the past. And Harry had assumed they always would.

He'd never thought an old man with dark sunglasses and funny fish smell would ever guess his secret.

_Ironic about the fish, though._

Harry found, surprisingly, that he was slightly relieved. It had been time to tell someone, anyway. These people were obviously the family of those magic users that were competing in the tournament: Goku, Goten, Saiyaman, Vegeta, Piccolo, Krillin, and 18. And hadn't Harry said to himself not ten minutes ago that he _should_ have told them already? That he should try to get their help?

"Er," said Harry now, trying to avoid looking at Mrs Breifs' shocked gaze. He jerked his head and met up with Chichi's instead. "Yes. I did it. But-but it was an accident! My magic's all stupid in this place! I can't control it sometimes. I mean, it's not like you lot don't keep secrets. _Sayiaman_ for instance."

"What do you mean —?" Chichi began.

"Saiyaman? Obviously Chichi is a little deluded, young man," Bulma interrupted. "You can't take anything she says at face value. Her husband — whom she hasn't seen in seven years — has just come back from the dea – uh, another country. Anyone would be overwhelmed."

"What?!" Chichi yelled. "Overwhelmed? I'll show you overwhelmed!" With that she tried climbing over Yamucha's lap to get at the cringing Bulma.

"Ladies please!" Roshi yelled.

"Yes, ladies, please?" Yamucha struggled controlling the furious woman in his lap, who was practically spitting in anger, her face tomato red. Harry had never seen anything like it before. Were they all children or something, to be behaving in this manner? Even the competitors weren't _this_ tenacious.

"Oh Chichi," said the Hagrid-like man Harry had heard called Ox-king, "calm down. Please." He extended a massive hand and yanked the woman off of an exhausted-looking Yamucha.

"Let me go, Dad! What right does she have to talk to me that way? Oooo, deluded indeed!" Then she stuck out her tongue.

Harry blinked.

"Hmm," said the old man after Chichi had finished bristling. "You're a wizard, aren't you?"

Harry couldn't have been more shocked if he'd been slapped in the face with a pair of dirty underwear. "Erm . . . yes — sorry, but how did you know that?"

"Your energy. It's a little like Baba's."

His energy? "I thought you recognised me because of your friends that are fighting in the tournament. I mean, don't they do magic? And who's Baba?"

"My sister," Roshi answered, sunglasses glinting. "She's a witch."

"Oh thank Merlin," Harry groaned. He'd never felt such profound relief. _A witch!__How come I haven't met one before? Merlin knows I've tried._ "Witches are rare, aren't they?"

"_Very_ rare."

_That explained it then. _Harry leaned forward. "Could you take me to her?" he asked eagerly.

"If you can wait a day, she'll be coming back for Goku."

"Right. Thanks. That's great," Harry breathed. He hadn't a clue what that last bit meant, but he didn't care. Finally, someone to help him! He had dreamed of this moment ever since his lizard portkey decided to scarper off into the distance. "Hang on — so, so if your sister is a witch, then what are your friends?"

"You aren't from around here," said the pig. It wasn't a question.

"What gave it away?" Harry laughed. "I'm sort of a —" he searched his brain to come up with something believable that they would understand "— sort of an alien, I guess. But don't worry, I'm _good_!" he added hastily. "I haven't come to invade or anything."

"Don't you worry," grinned Yamucha, reaching past Bulma's back to pat him on the shoulder. "You aren't the first alien we've come across."

"Oh?" Harry was intrigued. The only other aliens he'd heard of were the one's his nurse had twaddled on about.

"I'm married to one," said Bulma and Chichi simultaneously.

Harry blinked (he had a feeling he would be doing that a lot). "Oh." How_ bizarre. _"I guess I needn't have worried, then."

"Especially not since the tournament is made up of half of them," said Bulma, placing a finger under her chin. "There's Piccolo, of course, and those two purple guys, Shin and Kabito. Then there's Gohan, and Goku, and my handsome husband Vegeta." She giggled like a twelve-year-old Hermione on a Lockhart sighting.

Harry found it as revolting now as he had back then.

"So what planet are you from?" asked the pig. Harry determinedly avoided staring at its shoes. The passing thought, _'But don't pigs have hoofs?' _darted through his brain. "Are you a Saiyan? You certainly have the hair."

"Saiyan? No, I come from Earth."

There was silence.

Harry grinned. It was fun to play with them for a change. "I wasn't exactly specific earlier. You see when I said 'alien', I meant dimension traveller. I come from another Earth in a different dimension."

"Now that's something we haven't dealt with before," Yamucha said speculatively, not even blinking at the explanation. "Unless you count Trunks, but he comes more from a different reality rather than a different dimension."

The other's nodded in sync.

Harry gave up. There was just no understanding these incredibly odd people. Some things phased them so much that their eyes looked as though they would pop all the way to the moon, while other things just seemed to roll off them.

"Yes, well I've wanted to get back home for months now, but all my attempts have failed. That's why I needed another wizard or witch, to see if they could help me."

"That's a bummer," said Bulma. "Lucky you found us, huh? Otherwise you would have had to travel in a spaceship to find another witch. There aren't any others on Earth, I don't think. And Baba spends most of her time in Other World these days. Hmm . . . Roshi, wouldn't you know?"

Roshi was — Harry saw to his disgusted fascination — currently engaged in gazing intently at the blue-haired woman's legs, and seemed not to have heard a word. And in his nose there be a bubble of un-popped bogey.

Harry blinked.

"Eh?" Roshi sniffed.

"Roshi!" Bulma screeched. "You dirty pervert!"

Harry blushed. "Shouldn't – isn't Gohan fighting now?" he said quickly.

Everyone paused, looked, and turned back to the arena.

"You know, I think this bread is stale?" Chichi commented, munching on the end of her bun.

Inwardly Harry sighed. In relief. That had been a close call. He did not want to talk about perverts or think about leg-watching.

xxxxx

"Do you see that?" asked Goku, staring over the top of the board. "Everyone's talking to that guy. Oh man, I wish I knew what they were saying!"

"He's from another dimension," said Piccolo, coming to stand beside him. "He's just told them he's an alien and a wizard."

"Wizard?!" This came from all directions, except Shin's.

If Piccolo was surprised he didn't show it. Not that he normally did anyway, except in extreme circumstances. "Yes. He'll be waiting for Baba. Isn't there something more important we should be watching right now?"

With that pointed statement everyone turned their attention back to the arena, where Gohan's identity had already been discovered.

"Gohan," Kabito was saying firmly, staring down at the smaller man. "I am curious to see your Super Saiyan powers. Please show them to me. We may be able to use them."

Gohan jumped. "What? Hey! How do you know I'm a Super Saiyan? And what do you mean by 'we may be able to use them?'"

"You'll know in time. Show me your Super Saiyan powers now!"

"Is this some kind of joke?! I can't transform in front of all these people." Gohan gesticulated wildly. "What should I do?"

Picolo leaned forward, funnelled his hand, and yelled, "Do what he says, Gohan!" The others looked at him in disbelief.

Gohan turned back to Kabito. "All right. You asked for it."

"Krillin," said Shin suddenly startling everyone, especially the subject in question, who jumped skittishly. "You have to go to the boy. Tell him he is not to interfere in whatever happens to Gohan."

Krillin blinked. "Huh?"

"Whatever happens?" Goku said, eyes narrowing. "What's gonna happen?"

Shin's posture was ramrod straight and as eerie as ever. "You do not need to worry about Gohan. He will be fine." Shin opened his eyes. "Krillin, go to the boy."

Vegeta couldn't stand it anymore. "Why should he have to listen to you?!" he growled through clenched teeth. "You expect us to obey you? We don't even know who you are, just that you're too cowardly to tell us!"

Piccolo's composure snapped. "Vegeta, show some respect! That is no way to be talking to The Supreme Kai!"

Silence was the least noisy sound in the building as the truth became known.

"I've heard stories from King Kai, but I thought they were just stories," Goku gasped, eyes full of wonder. "Shin: _you're_ The Supreme Kai?"

"Krillin," was all Shin said to that.

"Huh? Oh-oh, yeah." The little man floated a couple of feet, then whizzed out of the building.

The others barely noticed.

xxxxx

"Not do anything? The purple ma — I mean this, er, Supreme Kai bloke— said that?"

Krillin shrugged. "He sounded like you'd know what he meant."

Harry had a bit of a suspicion. "I guess. I sort of do. I mean, I thought he was sort of like God. His mind is . . . well it's really _really_ old."

"Is he ever!" Krillin exclaimed, arm waving. The other held his daughter. "He's The Supreme Kai: the ultimate Guardian of the Universe! You can't get much cooler than that!"

"And it doesn't bother you that Gohan's getting attacked right now?"

Krillin spared a hesitant glance in Chichi's direction (luckily the woman had already fainted into her father's arms), then at the arena, where Spopovitch and Yamu were sucking out Gohan's energy. The boy had already lost his brilliant golden glow and was becoming increasingly paler.

"Goku doesn't seem too worried, and if Supreme Kai say it's okay then I believe him," said Krillin firmly.

"What? Are you all insane?!" Bulma had been getting steadily redder as the conversation between Krillin and Harry went on. The two males cringed. "That's _Gohan_ out there! You know, your best friend's son? How can you take the word of some weird purple guy that shows up out of nowhere?! How can Goku?! How can VEGETAAAAA?!"

"Whoa, Bulma, calm down, Piccolo gave the okay. He used to be Guardian of the Earth, remember? I think he can recognise another guardian. Besides, there's just something about those two guys . . ." Krillin chuckled.

Bulma looked a second away from following Chichi.

Yamucha crossed his arms, stared down thoughtfully. "I trust Goku more than anyone. If he says this Shin guy is okay —"

"Not you too!" Bulma spat.

"I just call 'em like I see 'em, babe."

"Don't. Call. Me. Babe!"

"Sit down, Bulma," a firm voice said.

"Don't tell me to —"

"It's over. There's no point arguing so sit DOWN!" Roshi croaked loudly.

Bulma released Krillin's shirt, blue eyes blinking then, peering down at the ring, she sat.

Gohan was lying on the arena floor, as white as any ghost Harry had seen. Videl crouched next to him, one hand on his twitching shoulder the other pressed to her own heart. Spopovitch and Yamu were flying off into the distance, nothing more than twinkling stars.

"Oh no!" Krillin gasped. "Gohan!"

"G-Gohan?" Bulma echoed pathetically.

_He's dying,_ Harry thought sadly. Inwardly, guilt at his own gullibility threatened to erupt. Hadn't he learned his lesson in _The Department of Mysteries_? How _could_ he have been so stupid? Again.

A small purple hand appeared suddenly in front of him.

Harry blinked. Looked up.

The Supreme Kai floated before Harry, staring down with ancient black eyes. Once again the weight of ages and ages pressed down on Harry's mind, and he knew instantly, unconditionally, and without even having to think, that Gohan would be all right. This Being had said so, and that made it true.

"I . . . You . . . . Hi," Harry croaked.

"What is your name, wizard?"

Harry gaped. "Harry Potter. How did you —?"

"I can help you get home, Harry. But first you must help me. When you are ready, follow my energy."

Harry shook the cobwebs out of his head. "Energy? I don't know what you're talking about?"

"Your kind teleport, do they not?"

_How the heck . . .?_ "Well yeah, but not by following someone's energy. We just think about the place we want to go to."

"Approximate ten minutes, then think about me," was all Shin said, then he rose, straightened, and shot off into sky.

"Oh man," Krillin moaned.

A second later Goku, Vegeta, and Piccolo shot out of the competitor's shack and into the air.

"Oh man," Krillin moaned again. "I guess I'm gonna have to go too. Hold Marron for me, would ya, Yamucha?"

"But —" was all Yamucha had time to say before the little girl was dumped into his lap. Krillin whooshed away not a second later.

"What just happened?" Harry asked no one in particular.

Nobody seemed to have an answer.

xxxxx


	6. The Demon Conspiracy

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Dragon Ball Z. They belong to J.K. Rowling and Akira Toriyama, respectively (Plus some other organisations and companies).

A/N: Here I am again. Thanks to everyone who took the time to review this story. I'm looking forward to finishing it now. Only a couple more chapters to go. Yay!

Enjoy!

xxxxxxx

**Chapter Six: The Demon Conspiracy.**

Harry's approximate ten minute mark had past seven minutes ago and he was anxious to get going. He'd never dreamed that the purple man, or rather, The Supreme Kai — ultimate Guardian of the Universe — would know about how to get him home. Then again, he _was_ the Universe's Guardian. It would stand to reason that he'd know about other dimensions. He'd probably even visited them before.

Seven minutes turned to eight and Harry still continued to stand his ground. He wished he could Apparate already. His glare always worked when he wanted to silence Hermione's endless busy-bodying at those times when he couldn't stand it. Why wouldn't it work with this woman? Couldn't she give up? Couldn't she _shut_ up?

". . . that's my son and husband out there! Goku has just come back from Other World and I don't wanna send him there again before his time. And my poor Gohan was attacked while none of you did anything!"

"But —"

"_Nothing_ you can say will change my mind. You're taking me and that's final!"

Harry breathed deeply through his nose, and tried to focus on his surroundings to better ground his temper. The whole group had moved out of the arena since Gohan, Videl, and Kabito had flown off. Harry had thought briefly about unshrinking his broom and joining them but, upon seeing just how fast they were going, decided against it. His Firebolt, best broom ever manufactured it may be, just wasn't up to par. Besides, Shin had told him to Apparate, and Harry had felt just a bit awkward disobeying the supposed 'God' of the Universe. Even if it would only have been by absconding his method of travel for another method.

They stood now under an abandoned tent a little ways from the arena. Harry thought it must have hosted hot food at some point because there was a distinctly oily smell hanging in the air. Not to mention the huge oven-like contraption sitting off to the side. All this did not help to settle him. There was nothing peaceful about ovens and oil. There wasn't anything natural around either, except the grass. But unless Harry wanted to bend down and sniff at it — not something he would choose to do, despite the propensity for oddness this group had — Harry was going to have to attempt something else.

But he needed something natural, something peaceful, with which centre himself. He'd always needed that. Even locked up in his hotel room those first harrowing days, he'd used the suite's corner pot-plant to concentrate on. Now he _couldn't_ centre himself. His Occlumency — at best of times passable, at worst it gave him a headache — just wouldn't work. He was too excited by the possibility that he could finally go home, perhaps even that day, and too stressed because impatience (with this woman, with being unable to wait, with his whole situation quite frankly) was settling in.

"Listen, ma'am," Harry said tightly, barely remembering not to be rude. Chichi was only worried about her family after all. "I know it's hard for you with your husband and son flying into danger —" _Literally_, he thought "— but that's the reason why you shouldn't go either. I've seen how they fight. I'm sorry to say but I think they're capable of defending themselves better than you."

Everyone winced. Roshi even emitted a small whimpering noise. Chichi crossed her brows so tightly that she looked rather spectacularly furious. "What —?" she began, tone dangerous, but Harry didn't let her speak. He knew from experience, _a la_ Mrs Weasley, that one shouldn't let protective, motherly women get into their stride. All sorts of nasty repercussions could transpire.

"Look, I'm really sorry, but I've wasted enough time as it is. I'm going now. "

"Don't you _dare_! WAI —" was all Harry heard before, with a _pop_, he vanished.

xxxxx

He took the time to shake himself free of the dizziness that usually tagged along after Apparation, and opened his eyes.

Before he could begin to process his surrounding a large hand shot forward and pulled him down behind some knotty boulders.

"What?" he yelped.

"Shhh, or they'll hear you."

Harry saw now whom the hand belonged to. Up close, Goku looked even more bizarre than all those other times Harry had seen him. His hair was even messier than Harry's — _an impossibility_, he would have thought, before he'd come to this dimension — but his large black eyes were gentle-looking and friendly, like Hagrid's. Harry immediately took a liking to him.

"Who'll hear?" he whispered, shifting off his right knee, which had banged against the rock as he'd been forced down.

Goku peeked over the side of the boulder. Harry took his cue and followed.

A vastness of open space mostly filled with desert — rather like the one he'd first materialised into — surrounded by scraggly cliffs and mountains lay before him. In the middle of all this was a tube-shaped _thing_ that must have been some sort of spaceship. It sat like a white blemish upon the tan ground, making it very noticeable. But the spaceship, despite its noticeable qualities, wasn't what interested Harry. It was the two people in front of it. A slim man in a tight Vegeta-like suit with a duckbill for a mouth stood, arms folded, while a tiny greenish insect thing with a red cape, who Harry knew was the same creature he'd seen in Spopovitch's mind, was cackling rather insanely.

"That's a wizard!" Harry gasped. "He was controlling that Spopovitch bloke at the tournament. Blimey — is that why you wanted me to come along, er, Supreme Kai?" he remembered to add just in time.

Harry had continued staring down at the wizard and duck man while he'd talked, so he wasn't to have known that his companions had been getting steadily more shocked and bewildered. He only found out when he turned to discover just why Shin was taking so long to answer, and saw everyone staring at him.

"What?" he asked.

Kabito snapped out of his trance. "But how did you, a mere human, know that?"

Harry blinked, and stared at the red face, whose eyes were now popping. Mentally, he rolled his own. "I entered his mind when he was fighting Videl, with Legilmency. It's a technique some wizard's use where I come from. I'm a lot better at it than Occlumency." Not that they would know what Occlumency was.

"I told Harry to come because of this specific purpose, Kabito," Shin said quietly, while everyone jerked their heads around.

"B-but, Supreme Kai!" Kabito protested.

It seemed to Harry like he sounded a little hurt. As though he couldn't comprehend why Shin hadn't told him something this important.

But Harry didn't care about that. Now was his chance to find out why Shin had invited him along. "What specific purpose? And how did you know I can do magic?"

"I have knowledge of your dimension, Harry," said Shin, staring at him with those eerie black eyes. It surprised Harry to see him sweating, as if he was nervous. Just what was going on here?

"I sort of worked that out already. Have you ever visited?"

"No, but as Supreme Kai I can do so anytime I wish."

Harry was about to answer but a heavy, extremely irritated grunt, stopped him. "This is foolish. We're supposed to be watching Babadi. You made him sound so powerful, but so far I haven't seen anything to boast about! Pathetic weaklings, all of them!"

"Vegeta," Goku admonished.

Vegeta simply harrumphed, and swivelled his gaze back down into the valley.

"Uh, guys, n-not to crash this nice little explanation thing you have going here, but I think Vegeta's right," Krillin said, backing away slightly. "They're walking toward the spaceship, and I don't wanna see what other surprises they've cooked up!"

They all turned to look, where; indeed, the two creatures were walking slowly back to their craft.

"What's gonna happen now?" Gohan questioned. It was a statement that could not be answered by anyone there.

Harry was beyond frustrated. He wanted to know what in Merlin's Beard was going on, but nobody seemed too inclined to tell him. Perhaps he should ask anyway? He deserved the right, after what he'd been through. He was so, so close to getting home that he would do just about anything.

"Er, sorry, Supreme Kai?"

The little man next to him either hadn't heard or was too busy staring down at the entrance of the spaceship, where the aliens had stopped walking.

"What is going on here?"

It was Piccolo who ended up telling him as the others continued to watch. The entrance — a metallic door — was opening slowly, automatically.

"_Babadi_?" Harry questioned, bemusement in his voice, when Piccolo's short explanation was over. "And his father's name was _Bibidi_? And this all powerful evil entity's name is _Buu_?"

"Yeah," said Gohan, who had occasionally interrupted with his own input while Piccolo explained. "Why?"

"Just there's this movie in my world called _Cinderella_ . . . never mind. It's hardly important. That's why you wanted me, is it? Because I'm a wizard and you thought I could help somewhat?"

If Harry was hoping to be acknowledged, he was sadly disappointed. Shin didn't turn once. It could be because such a look of fear was crossing his face at the moment, that Harry himself — who was by now feeling slightly like a third wheel — was compelled to look down.

The door of the spaceship finally opened, and a gigantic red demon devil creature stepped out.

"_Dabura!_" Kabito gasped so croakily it made Harry jump.

"What's _he_ doing here?" There was a very definite quiver in Shin's voice, and his temple was now dotted with yet more sweat drops.

Note: if the Guardian of the Universe is scared, best to run away now.

"Who's Dabura?" asked Gohan, who hadn't missed Shin's reaction either.

Neither Kabito nor Shin seemed to be paying attention to anything except what was happening below, but Kabito offered the explanation without meaning to.

"That cursed wizard." He appeared to be continuing his last train of thought. "He has even managed to enslave . . . The King of the Demons!"

"What?!" came from all around.

Shin wasn't blinking. "Dabura is King of the Demon World," he explained, sweat now sliding down the side of his face. "The Demon World is the exact opposite of this world. They exist together like two sides of the same coin. Two dimensions sharing the same plane of existence." Harry latched onto the word dimensions. "One of you might be the strongest in _this_ world, in the Demon World, Dabura is by far the strongest fighter."

Gohan gasped, the rest (except Vegeta) followed.

"Whoa," Goku breathed, "he must be _really_ strong." He turned to look at Shin, then grinned. "Man, I can't _wait_ to fight him."

"_Wha_ . . .?" Shin and Kabito were clearly taken aback.

"Yeah," Goku nodded, "I haven't had a real challenge in a _long_ time."

"Ch-challenge?" Shin stuttered, staring at Goku as though he'd suddenly been turned into a Canary Cream. "The Universe is at stake, and you're worried about a challenge?!"

"Saiyans, Master," Kabito grunted.

Vegeta scowled.

But then Shin smiled. It was such a change of expression that Harry, along with everyone else, was taken aback. "But we do not need to worry anymore. My goal this entire time has been to stop Babadi before he can release Majinn Buu. None of you will need to fight. We have a wizard with us now."

In sync, everyone looked at Harry.

"Er," he said, feeling nervous at the stares. He'd never liked them in his world, and, though he'd briefly enjoyed being inconspicuous in this dimension (when he wasn't feeling helpless and alone, that is) he still didn't like them now. "Exactly how do you think I can help? I mean, I've seen these guys fight and those little kids, Goten and Trunks, too. And they weren't even using magic according to Roshi! What do you think _I_ can do?"

"Ever since you came here your magic has not been working correctly, is that not so?"

Harry blinked. "Well, yes."

"You have already discovered most of the reasons as to why that is," Shin stated, staring at Harry.

Again, Harry was reminded that this Being was also an accomplished Legilimens. Why else would he be so confidant in Harry's abilities? Then a horrid thought occurred. _Perhaps . . . perhaps in this dimension they really _do_ have mind readers, unlike back home. Which would mean . . . _No, he was being stupid. He could still block it with his Occlumency. Hadn't he done it already back at the tournament?

"Because the energy in this dimension is different than mine?" Harry tried.

"Partly," Shin agreed, "but also because your dimension is much heavier than ours. Your magic is more potent, that is why you've been having trouble controlling it here. You are stronger than Babadi."

Well he'd have to be what with floating everybody, and transfiguring cutlery, and changing perfectly happy trees into goo, and turning the environment an unhealthy shade of pink, and setting his hotel room on fire, and turning poor, unsuspecting muggles into dinosaur fish and, and . . . Yes, he'd had quite the adventure.

"You mean you want me to do something now?" Harry thought back to the tournament, and how he'd encountered the green insect-like wizard in Spopovitch's mind. "I can take off the controlling spell Babadi used on these guys if you want."

"Y-your magic . . . allows you do that?" Kabito asked.

"Yeah, it's a simple spell. Hold on . . . wait, shouldn't I do something about the wizard first?" Harry unpocketed his wand. "Then he won't be able to re-enslave these blokes. What?"

Everyone was once again staring at him.

Supreme Kai, however, was looking rather excited, and he leaned forward so that his face was near Harry's. "Yes, yes, I was right to have asked you. Who knows what would have happened had you not accompanied us. We would have been forced to fight, I think, and I would rather avoid that."

"Grrrrr."

Harry blinked, looked behind him. Vegeta was standing, arms crossed, with a murderous stare directed right at Harry.

He shivered.

There was something not very pleasant about that stare. There was some wild glint in Vegeta's eyes that hinted: animal; as though he would like nothing more than to rip Harry apart. Harry hadn't experienced this feeling since the end of his third year; since Lupin's transformation. The werewolf had looked at Harry in exactly the same way. Without thinking about it, he shuffled closer to the Supreme Kai. If he was safe with anyone it would be with this Being.

To think that Bulma Briefs was married to this bloke and even had a kid with him. For all her oddness — which Harry now suspected was an evolutionary necessity in all people of this dimension, rather than just a peculiarity of those he had spoken to most — Bulma was quite a level-headed and intelligent woman. In fact, now that he thought on it, her last name was oddly fami — and then it hit him. _Briefs._ Her family had invented those amazing "capsule tablets", or whatever they were called, that Harry had never needed to use; he had shrinking and enlargement spells in his arsenal after all.

But those capsules had helped Harry in another way. He hadn't needed to hide his magic as much around the muggles because they would just assume he was using their technology. A compressed smoke and noise spell set off the whole thing nicely.

But he wondered how Bulma's relationship with Vegeta had ever come to be.

Looking at Vegeta now, eyes cold and black and not at all like Goku's, Harry still couldn't see it.

"O-okay," Harry said. "I think I'll just turn him into slug."

"Aww," Goku interrupted, scratching his chin. "That's kinda mean. How 'bout a bunny, instead?"

Everyone stared at him.

Harry sniggered. "I don't think so, Mr Son, he'd be too hard to control as it is." He thought back to fake Moody and ferret Malfoy, then a passage in Newt Scamander's text book. "See, in my world once you transfigure someone they _become_ the animal; including having the animal's intellect and instincts. It's different from when a wizard becomes an Animagus — we still keep our own mind. But if I transfigure Babadi into a really, _really_ unintelligent and pathetic creature, he'll _think_ like a really unintelligent and pathetic creature. That means he won't try turning himself back into a wizard because he wouldn't be able to think enough to do so — theoretically. I mean, I don't know how my magic will affect another wizard in this dimension, so I'd rather be safe."

"Mmm," said Goku thoughtfully, "makes sense. But I don't think I understood all of it."

"That's understandable." Harry hadn't, after all, thought to explain what an Animagus was. "But I'd have to, erm, get close in order to cast the spell. So I'll just Apparate down —"

"Apparate?" asked Gohan.

"Er, teleport —"

"You gotta be kidding!" Krillin shouted, interrupting Harry yet again. "All by yourself?"

"I guess you can come with me," Harry mumbled.

Krillin jumped and backed up a space. "W-With you? I-I think I'm better off heading home. In fact, guys, this is just getting too dangerous for me. I'm a family man now. I'll be seeing you —"

"Wait," Shin held out a hand. "There is no need to be afraid, Krillin, we have Harry now —"

"M'not _that_ good," Harry muttered, thinking The Supreme Kai a bit nutters for trusting so much in his magic.

"— and as soon as he turns Babadi into a slug we will all be safe."

"Forgive me, master, but not necessarily. Once Babadi is a slug, who will take care of Dabura and Pui Pui? Babadi's mind controlling magic will wear off if he isn't there to keep it on them. They will be extremely volatile and hard to control. I also doubt Dabura will want to return to the demon world, once he realises how many innocent people live in this one."

"We will need a distraction, then, Kabito."

"If I may make a suggestion, Supreme Kai," Piccolo intoned, just as Goku opened his mouth to do the same. The wild-haired man looked extremely disappointed that he hadn't gotten there before Piccolo. Considering how much Goku seemed to like fighting, Harry wasn't surprised he'd want to go the more violent route."Why not just take —"

"HE _KNOWS_ THAT WE'RE HERE!" Kabito shouted suddenly.

Everyone whirled to look, Harry's heart thumping madly.

Babadi, Pui Pui, and the horrible Dabura were all staring up at the cliff, clearing having spotted them.

xxxxxxx


	7. Wizards Are As Wizards Do

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Dragon Ball Z. They belong to J.K. Rowling and Akira Toriyama, respectively (Plus some other organisations and companies).

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read this story, but double thanks to all those who took the time and effort to review — especially when it was more than a couple of words (although I still appreciate those). This is the last chapter, technically. There's still the epilogue to go.

I received a question from one reviewer asking who Pui Pui is:

Pui Pui is the "duck-billed man" that killed Spopovitch and Yamu and that Harry spotted standing next to Babadi. In the original series Vegeta kills him on Pui Pui's own planet, where Babadi transports them to.

**WARNING/SPOLIER ALERT:** There is one _Deathly Hallows_ spoiler in this chapter. For those who haven't read the seventh book, enter at your own risk.

Hope you enjoy.

xxxxx

**Chapter Seven: Wizards Are As Wizards Do.**

It happened in the splittest second. One moment Dabura was in the deep valley, some few hundred metres away, the next he had appeared in front of Kabito, having flown faster than Harry could see. Harry was not one to mince spells. Six or so years of battling Voldemort had kept him on his toes, but even he could not have stopped what happened next. Harry's speed reaction was just not on the same level as Dabura's. He didn't even have time to blink before Kabito was obliterated by the same brilliant yellow glow that had exploded from out of the palms of little Trunks and Goten as they fought at the tournament.

Harry knew he could not do anything with Dabura, the demon king, and reasoned he would leave that up to the others. He _would_ duel with the wizard. That was more up his alley. Harry just wasn't fast enough to follow the fighters in this dimension, and that's what he finally realised they were. Fighters, not wizards or magic users.

He thought back to Hermione in one of her many lectures at the Quidditch World Cup as, buckets of water in hand, the trio walked back to their tents: "Oh, look, the representatives of the Chinese wizard school. I've read about them. You know, Chinese wizards used to be able to manipulate _Chi_ back in the day, but they've lost the art."

"What's Chi?" Harry had asked, and wondered if it had anything to do with Dudley's martial arts films. Dudley, at nine-years-old, had gone through a brief period of Kung Fu worship — mostly because he'd wanted to learn new and exciting ways of beating people up. Years later he'd actually done something about it and switched his worship to boxing.

Harry remembered walking out of his cupboard one day — he'd felt confident because Uncle Vernon had been at work and Aunt Petunia gossiping in the kitchen with Mrs Number Seven from across the street — and sneaking behind Dudley's armchair in the living room. Dudley had been watching his martial arts movie, and Harry himself had been riveted. Partly because he rarely got to watch television, but mostly because of what was happening on it. The characters on screen were all fighting hand to hand, jumping all over the place at impossibly high levels. Dudley had then stood up and attempted to re-enact a scene from the movie, shouting "I am the Chi Master!" in what he obviously thought had been a mysterious and impressive voice.

"It's a lost magic — sort of like Merlin and his supposed time-travelling," Hermione had explained in her know-it-all tone. "They used to be able to manipulate their own life energy to extraordinary levels and funnel it into their limbs."

"What, like they would be able to jump really high and stuff?" Harry guessed.

"You've watched some of the films!" Hermione gasped.

Ron scratched an eyebrow. "What's a film?"

Harry shook his head. Yes, the fighters in this dimension seemed to be using their _Chi_, but not on a level Harry would have thought possible in his own world. The Supreme Kai had given him an unwitting answer now that he thought back on it. His own dimension was much heavier than this one; therefore, it would be much harder to use _Chi_ — in the same theory it would be much harder to use magic as well, which was why his own magic was hugely deformed and more powerful here. But this dimension . . . He thought back to Krillin, and how the small man had literally, with only one little punch, thrown his almost-bigger-than-Hagrid-sized opponent clear to the other side of the arena.

Unbelievable.

Kabito was gone now, obliterated in a flash of yellow light, and everyone seemed nervous or scared. Harry wasted not a moment. While the demon king was busy boasting, he Apparated.

He took care of the duck-man first while he and Babadi were still too shocked at Harry's sudden presence. Fighters in this dimension were more of a threat to Harry than wizards, and he'd had to rearrange his plan slightly. Kabito had had the right of it from the off. But he was dead now. Harry forced himself not to think about it and, with a flick of his wand, Pui Pui was transfigured.

_Great speed stands for nothing if you can't use it,_ Harry thought smugly. He bent down and pocketed the shiny new red toothbrush, which had pictures of baby ducks on the handle. He would give it to The Supreme Kai later and let him decide what to do with it.

Then he faced the wizard, who backed away, eyes wide. "_Pui Pui . . . ?_ What? How _dare_ you?!"

Babadi had an exceptionally high and croaky voice, and he really was the most pathetic creature Harry had ever seen, even more so than a house elf. His body was Flitwick-sized with bits of thin scraggly hair sprouting from the top of his squashed beehive-like head and out of his ears. His arms would have looked more at home among a pile of twigs, and his eyes were large, bulbous, and sly, like a rat's which, considering his size, wasn't all that far from the truth. In short, he looked like some sort of deformed insect primate; as though a praying mantis had decided to mate with a monkey and produced _this_.

He also wore robes and, despite his croakish voice, spoke in an almost British accent. Ironic.

"Look what you've done, you _idiot_!"

Harry didn't appreciate that, he truly didn't. "Me? Aren't you the one killing people? I just transfigured him."

Those sly green eyes narrowed even more slyly. "Yes, I remember you now," said Babadi, shocking Harry. "You were the one who infiltrated poor Spopovitch's mind at the tournament. Ha-ha, oh how lovely. It's been too long since I've met another wizard. I guess Supreme Kai has finally run out of options. Where did he find you, by the way?" The small chest rumbled with un-open laughter.

"I sort of found him," Harry responded, growing angry. Wasn't _he_ supposed to be the confident one here? Why did he suddenly feel out of his depth? No, he would not let this thing distract him. And why the bloody hell was Babadi talking? Shouldn't he be getting on with trying to kill Harry?

"Oh-ho-oh-ho-ha-ha-ha! _You _found Supreme Kai?! This is even better than I — Ahhhrrgh!" _DING!_ "You _stupid_ idiot!"

Harry, getting tired of all the unnecessary chatter, had thrown a stupefy curse, which Babadi had deflected with a shield sphere. It floated around him like an especially large and pink bubble-head charm.

"Can't you think up an original insult? Consider something fresher, maybe?" said Harry, fingers curling even tighter about the base of his wand.

"You . . ." Babadi breathed.

Before Babadi could think to use some other word to insult Harry there were a dozen whooshes and thumps. Everyone, including the demon king, had landed some few metres away and were eagerly watching Harry and Babadi.

Krillin punched the air. "Whoo-hoo, go Harry!" he shouted.

"Yeah, you can do it!" Gohan yelled around funnelled hands.

Harry, desperately trying not to, sensed his cheeks pinken. It felt like he was now in the arena and the others were the spectators. Never in his life had he experienced such a surreal feeling. His first urge was to flap a hand and tell them all to go away, and then considered that he may need their help in the future if he couldn't dispatch the wizard on his own.

_Dispatch_. He hated that word. He hated what it implied, but essentially, wouldn't that be what he'd be doing? Dispatching the wizard so that he wouldn't cause anymore problems in the universe . . .

_Universe_. Wouldn't Voldemort rejoice in this dimension. The thought sobered him. And also frightened him. If Voldemort really was the culprit of Harry's little dimension hop (as Harry suspected. After all, just how many Dark Lords were waiting around Privet Drive to dispose of him? Not many, he would assume), then why couldn't he simply have transferred himself? A wizard had a lot more power here, as Harry, to his misfortune, had found out. Why hadn't Voldemort thought to come here instead of wasting his time and trying to take over the muggle and wizarding worlds?

If Harry's theory was correct, than that meant Voldemort hadn't been the one to curse him here. But then, who had?

That beared thinking of. But later. Much later. He wanted to get this duel over with and go home. He was so desperate for British cooking that he'd have to visit Mrs Weasley as soon as he got back.

His situation was fast becoming an annoyance, and this last occurrence, duelling with a wizard from a foreign dimension . . . what a way to battle it out. At least he didn't have to fight — like the others, thank Merlin. Of course it also didn't help that he still felt somewhat inferior to them. Even though their powers were different from his.

Harry could never fly (though a rumour last year at Hogwarts had been circulating that Voldemort could. But then the Hogwarts' grapevine often boasted stupid gossip like "Harry Potter curses off his spots" and "Harry Potter is dating three Hufflepuff fourth years" and "Harry Potter is dating Ronald Weasley" — that last one Ron had fainted over and had to be awakened by an extremely powerful _Enervate _spell). Harry could never shoot glowing balls of light from out of his palms (though he could do wandless spells). Harry could never run so fast he'd be invisible to the naked eye (though he supposed he could Apparate, something which, as far as he knew, these people could not boast).

Feeling better, Harry turned his attention away from Goku and company and back to the wizard in front of him. "Okay, d'you want to start this duel or shall I?"

How _does_ one go about duelling in this dimension? Clearly, Babadi did not own a wand so Harry couldn't exactly follow all the duelling etiquettes. He choked at the sudden image of Babadi using his finger. All right, so no wand. Not that he had expected to bow to Babadi anyway. For one, he didn't think the other wizard would agree to bow to Harry, for another, inclining his head to someone who wanted to awaken the greatest evil in the universe simply to cause destruction, mayhem, death, and just because he could, was not worth bowing to in Harry's opinion.

"Oh, please be my guest," said Babadi, smirking. Once again his chest rumbled with unspoken laughter.

All right, so he was planning something. Not really a surprise.

"Thank you," Harry said politely, and Apparated. He threw a _Finite Incantatum_ at Babadi's back once he'd appeared behind the wizard. The pink sphere vanished like mist. Harry spotted the widening of Babadi's eyes as the wizard whirled around, before jetting off a stunner. Babadi leaped out of the way.

Then, still staring wide-eyed at Harry, he gurgled.

Harry didn't give him a chance to recuperate. He shot a Bat-Bogey Hex at the other wizard, who screeched and screamed and flapped spindly hands about his face, but it was no use. Clearly wizards in this dimension had no counterattacks. They had plenty of attacks, but they had no reversal spells to speak of.

"Get it off, please! Help me!" screeched Babadi, rolling around on the ground. "I'll leave you alone, I promise! Ahhh! What kind of curse is this?!"

"It's a hex," said Harry dully, watching as the twig-like legs kicked at the sky and the small body curled in on itself. "And no, I won't take it off —"

Babadi wailed, then coughed as a bogey entered his mouth.

"— unless you promise something."

"Yes, anything," he spat. "Anything, just take it off. They're going up my nose. I can't breath, you stupid-head!"

Harry snorted. _Honestly._ "You have to promise to go away and not come back here."

"Yeesss! Yes, yes! I promise!"

Babadi's response was automatic and anticipated, and Harry did not trust him one jot. "All right, then. _Stupefy_."

The tiny green wizard stopped moving.

"That's that, then," said Harry. Another wave of his wand and the Bat-Bogey Hex was cancelled.

Then Harry burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. He'd never been in a more pathetic duel in his life, unless he counted the one with Malfoy in second year. Everything Babadi had done just seemed so . . . childlike and stupid. Even the name-calling had been stupid. That, topped with everything else Harry had experienced today — all the bizarreness off this world and its people — was too much for him. He laughed so hard he had to sit down.

"Uh, are you ok? Harry, what ever you're doing, I think you'd better stop!"

Krillin and friends stood leaning over him, staring around, and were looking very concerned.

Harry wiped his eyes, unclenched his stomach, and frowned. "WHAT AM I DOING?"

He clapped his hands over his mouth. That had been extremely loud. Like a _Sonorus Charm,_ only ampliphied by ten. Come to think of it, his laughter had been loud too, and full of echoes. What . . .

Then he felt it. The earth rumbled and shook, the sky turned dark with storm clouds, the grass turned pink, and the surrounding mountains kept changing into gigantic ducks and back again with horrendous squawks that almost bled his ears out.

Harry gasped (the sound echoed back and forth in the valley), then, thinking quickly, lay flat on his back and thought of nature, of peace, of nothing.

Rest.

After a while the rumbling beneath his back stopped, the thunder stopped, there were no more squawks, and the air did not smell like a melted chocolate frog. His eyes flew open, flitted, saw the crowd peering down at him. They moved aside as he stood on shaky legs.

"What in Merlin . . .?" All that, just because he'd laughed? He'd never had much to laugh about since his arrival in this world, and it surprised him to note that this really was the first time he'd ever done so. Frightened didn't even begin to describe how Harry felt at the moment. This was just too bizarre, even for magic. _Giant ducks? Of all things . . ._ He needed to get out of this dimension, and fast, before he blew himself up. Or worse, blew someone else up.

"God, look at me." Goosebumps had broken over his body and cold whistled through his bones like wind through hollow wood. No, this was not good at all.

At least the landscape was back to normal — except for one lone, massive duck, who'd settled down to sleep between two mountains, its head under its wing. He would have to take care of that soon.

Then Harry looked around, puzzled. Something was missing. "Where's the Demon King?"

Nearly everyone looked down at their shoes.

Goku ruffled the back of his head, looking sheepish. "We were gonna take care of him, but he died."

Harry blinked, a churning feeling in his stomach. This was his fault, he just knew it. "Died? How?"

"Well, you turned him into a fish," said the Saiyan. "And he couldn't breathe. So . . ."

"He asphyxiated and Goku and Vegeta ate him," Piccolo supplied, looking disproving.

"_Ate_ him?" said Harry, aghast.

"Yeah, he was real tasty, too." Goku patted his stomach, which seemed to be bulging slightly. "Better than the fish near my house. And so much bigger!"

Harry shivered. Logically, he knew Dabura hadn't been Dabura once Harry had transfigured him (that he had, in fact, been a real prehistoric fish) but the muggle-raised part of him recoiled at the idea, which was practically tantamount to cannibalism. He spotted the skeleton of the fish-Dabura (shockingly as large as a whale) behind Goku, and almost gagged.

But he did wonder just why the others hadn't changed along with Dabura. Had his magic sensed the difference between the evil of the demon king and the good of the others, and compensated by turning only Dabura into the fish?

If that was so, than why had his magic turned ordinary people into fish (admittedly, smaller fish) when he'd first arrived in this dimension?

He'd probably never find out the real answer.

"How wonderful," he managed to choke out. "Rare fish is a delicacy here, isn't it?"

The spiky-haired man laughed. "Yeah, but I cooked it with my _Chi_ blast. I've never been that fond of raw meat."

Vegeta harrumphed.

Right.

And that was that.

On Shin's direction, Harry lifted the transfiguration off of the duck and then turned Babadi into a tube of toothpaste. A much better idea than a slug, he had to admit, and at least it matched the baby-duck toothbrush. He gave all this to The Supreme Kai, who, smiling happily, pocketed the lot.

Harry blinked, bewildered, wondering if Shin was allowed to look so happy. "I'm sorry about your —" He had been about to say 'friend' but Kabito had been more of a servant, hadn't he, "— your Kabito. I'm sorry about Kabito," he finished awkwardly.

"Thank you, but there is no need. We shall simply wish him back with the Dragon Balls," the purple man said nonchalantly, leaving Harry perplexed. That sounded as though they were going to bring him back from the dead. But that couldn't be right. You couldn't wish someone back.

Harry opened his mouth to ask just what Shin had meant, then changed his mind. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"What are we gonna do with the space ship?" asked Gohan, poking it with his foot. "It looks kinda small."

Shin walked up to the entrance. "The rest of it is buried. No doubt Babadi had other fighters under his control. We will send them back where they came from, and Harry can transform the more evil ones into —"

"Floss?" Krillin suggested.

There was laughter. Harry permitted himself a chuckle. They might be bizarre, but they were also quite laid back and funny. Like Bill Weasley.

And that's exactly what Harry did. He uprooted Babadi's spaceship until it was unburied and standing as tall as a sky scraper, performed a quick spell to check of any inhabitants, found some, and _obliviated_ them. He had also found a sleeping presence in the deep bowels of the ship.

"It must be Majinn Buu," Shin breathed, eyes wide, when Harry told him. "Bring him to me, if you can."

So Harry Apparated to the giant pink ball, receiving the shock of his life when Goku did the same. So much so that he actually tripped over his shoes and would have hit his head on the floor if it weren't for Goku catching him. Then the Saiyan, while Harry was still blushing, decided to be helpful and Disapparated along with the ball. Harry, only just getting over his shock, let him.

When they were standing back in the open Harry shrunk the ball. Then tried to transfigure it. It didn't work.

He slapped his wand against his thigh and attempted wand-less magic.

Nothing.

"Ah, don't worry about it; it happens to the best of us." Gohan clapped him on the back.

Harry sighed. "It was supposed to have turned into a teaspoon. I think it looks a little silver around the bottom here, though."

"Right, uh, silver," said Krillin, after peeping down to see.

Harry felt like an idiot.

Shin placed a hand on his shoulder. "You have to understand, Harry, that Majinn Buu was pure evil," he explained, glancing down at the little ball in his hand. "And very powerful. I know how the good magic in your dimension reacts to the dark."

"You mean because it doesn't react at all?" said Harry. "I know if something's hit by dark magic it can't be fixed entirely as it had been."

Shin nodded. "Frankly, I'm surprised you were even able to shrink it this much." The long purple fingers stroked the ball hesitantly, before pocketing it. Then he started laughing. "I can't believe how easy this all was! We didn't even have to fight once." A crease appeared between his thin white brows. "Anything else on the ship we should be worried about?"

"Erm . . ." There was one other entity, but Harry hadn't wanted to erase its memory until he'd gotten the all's clear from The Supreme Kai. "There's this _thing_ on the second last level, and it feels sort of . . . monstrous. I mean, its mind just isn't as developed as ours buts its instincts are on par with those of our departed friend over there." He jerked a thumb in the direction of the Dabura-fish skeleton.

Goku whooped. "Oh wow, looks like we'll get to fight after all guys!"

"Goku —" Shin began, but Goku wasn't listening. Instead he had placed two fingers on his forehead and seemed to be concentrating a lot.

"Ah, I see now," he smiled. "_There_ you are. Ya coming guys?"

"C-Coming?" The Supreme Kai reiterated. "What do you think you're doing, Goku? If one of Babadi's creatures is on the ship, we'll get Harry to turn it into something. There is no reason to fight now."

Vegeta growled and clenched his fists. "Shut up! The only reason I left the tournament and followed those ridiculous bald freaks was because you assured us that we would be fighting." The Supreme Kai stared, apparently in disbelief at Vegeta's rudeness. "The tournament is probably over now, and I'm getting my fight one way or another. Kakkarot, you promised me a fight!"

Goku waved his arms about. "Oh, yeah sure, Vegeta. It's just . . . can't I fight this one guy first? There's not much to do when you're dead, you know. It's pretty boring up there."

Harry blinked. _Don't think about it, Potter, just don't think about it._

Vegeta's teeth were clenched together so tightly that Harry wouldn't be surprised if he cracked them. "Fine. But after that it's me and you."

"I'm counting on it." Goku's mouth turned up in a small smile.

After everyone got into place, Goku "Instant transmitted" them to the second level, where it was very dark, and where a slimy large creature sat waiting. Shin backed away upon realising what the creature was. Yakkon. From a planet with no sun. After several attempts to tempt Goku away from fighting Yakkon — all of which were fruitless — Shin sat back along with the rest of them as the grinning Saiyan fought the lizard-like beast.

It didn't take him very long. All of five minutes, really. But it was one of the most impressive duels Harry had ever witnessed. All light and strength and speed and wits. Goku was really quite intelligent to have figured out that, to kill Yakkon, he needed to overfeed him with his own glowing gold energy. Harry thought what a benefit it would be if he knew how to fight like that — then remembered the knowledge would be useless back home.

"Amazing," Shin breathed, staring wide-eyed at a victorious Goku. "I had no idea you Saiyans were so powerful. I should have paid more attention to the lower levels of the universe."

"Yes, you should have," Vegeta grunted, arms crossed, "if you truly thought this Yakkon creature was anything more than a measly gnat. Kakkarot did not even have to expend much of his energy. I'm beginning to wonder if Majinn Buu would have been a challenge at all. This whole day has been a waste of my time!"

Shin stared, jaw drooping, as Piccolo burst out: "I've told you before, Vegeta, show some respect!"

"I'll show respect when it's earned," returned the prince. Then, growling, levitated. "I'm going! Kakkarot you still owe me a fight." Vegeta floated upward, blasting a whole in the ceiling, before speeding up and out of sight.

"Erm, I can repair that if you want," said Harry hesitantly.

"Yes, please do," Shin nodded. He was still looking shocked and dazed.

With a negligent wave of his wand, the crumbled ceiling repaired itself.

"Now that that's all taken care of," said The Supreme Kai, looking benevolent and serious once more, "are you ready to go?"

At last. "Yes."

"Is there anyone you wish to say goodbye to?"

He thought about his hotel manager, and how decent and understanding the bloke had been even before Harry had had to erase his memory. Then he thought of Bulma and Chichi and Yamucha and the group back at the World Martial Arts Tournament. Besides his hotel manager, he had not spoken so much to strangers in such a short amount of time. He felt he owed it to them to say goodbye. Besides, he needed to go back to his hotel anyway. His trunk and possessions were there as well as that wonky dimensional time-turner thing. "Yeah. There are some people. Could you wait twenty minutes?"

xxxxxxx

The goodbyes hadn't been difficult. Harry had hardly known the group enough to mourn them. But, despite that, there was still a sense of . . . detachment? Misplacement? As if he had spent a long time learning a new language, only to wake up one day and forget it.

"Take care of yourself, kiddo," said Bulma.

Harry observed her stance; the hands on her hips, the slight smile in her eyes, and grinned back. "I will, thank you." He drew a deep breath, tightened his hand about his trunk, looked around at all the familiar faces, and turned to Shin. "I'm ready."

"I know. Close your eyes."

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	8. Epilogue, Where It All Began

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Dragon Ball Z. They belong to J.K. Rowling and Akira Toriyama, respectively (Plus some other organisations and companies).

A/N: Just in case anyone doesn't know, _veni vidi_ means: _I came. I saw, _in Latin — this is in response to Harry just being a spectator at the tournament, then later again when the DBZ gang watch him not-so-stressfully battling it out with Babadi.

I hope you enjoy.

**SPOILER ALERT** _Deathly Hallows_ spoiler inside. Big one.

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**Epilogue: Where It All Began.**

"Harry. Harry, wake up. Harry!"

The sleeping man jerked awake, yawning. "M'what?"

"It's time to head out again."

Harry rubbed sleep from his eyes, and peered at the watch on his wrist. "It's five thirty in the morning!"

"I know," said Hermione, her response a bit sharp. "But if you and Ron want to have your morning practise before we get to the bakery, you'll have to do it now. We haven't much time left."

Harry stifled another yawn. "Okay." His eyes flitted around. "Where is Ron?"

"He's gone to the toilet. You'd better go, too." Hermione's head disappeared outside the flap of the tent once more and Harry, groaning, buried his head under his pillow.

He did not feel like practising this morning. In fact, he did not feel like doing anything this morning. The air was a little chilly, and he felt wonderfully warm and comfortable under his sleeping bag. He supposed he could spell himself a warming charm, but that wasn't the point. A warming charm did not feel cushiony and soft.

He sighed, and threw back the sleeping bag, welcoming the cold rush of air about as much as he welcomed Snape swooping into the potions classroom. After getting dressed he pottered around the tent for a while, searching for his missing sock. He found it under Ron's pillow and yanked it up his foot.

"Are you dressed?" came Hermione's voice once more, muffled by the thick tent.

"Almost," Harry called back. "Have you got my wand?"

"It's in my pocket."

"Good. Don't lose it."

He thought he heard Hermione tut irritatedly. "Have I ever?" she muttered. "And take out the knapsack. We'll divide whatever's left in it until we go shopping again. Come on, Ron's waiting."

"He can wait a few more minutes, can't he?" Harry searched through his own pockets, intent on finding the small bag that they shrunk every day and enlarged again when they needed to eat. There was almost nothing in it now, and they would have to restock at the bakery, then at the nearest small grocery shop. He was about to lift it out and pass it through the flap, when his fingers brushed instead against a small glass feature.

He froze. Debated. Then, fingers curling over the dainty glass, unearthed it from his brimming pocket.

The dimensional turner.

Odd that he hadn't thought of it in a while, especially as his entire life was now governed by this one little measly piece of glass and sand.

"Harry?"

"Coming." He stuffed the dimensional tuner back into his pocket, a little relieved at remembering that he'd placed an unbreakable charm on it, then stepped into his shoes.

He exited the tent a minute later and gave the knapsack to Hermione. "Here." She took it. "Ron, you ready?"

The redhead removed his hands from his pockets. "Yeah, mate."

"Hermione, you're sure you don't want to learn?"

"Yes," she rolled her eyes. "I told you, I'm not up to learning how to control my _Chi_."

"It's really quite easy when it's all explained to you properly," Harry urged. "I know you failed before but . . . wouldn't it be good to have an extra power at your command? In case you loose your wand."

Hermione shook her head, regret visible in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Harry. I just can't do it. I tried but . . . I think I'll always be the more studious type."

Harry nodded, though he was disappointed. "Okay, but if you ever want to try again . . . I mean it took me months just to be able to form a small glow between my palms. And I can still only project it a few feet. It takes time. Ron can't even project it at all yet!"

"Enough, Harry. I'm quite content with magic."

"I only wish the Supreme Kai had stayed a little longer to teach you. I'm no good. I haven't a clue what most of it means, and I . . . I get tired too frequently lately."

"I've told you before, you're expending too much of your energy." Hermione's Molly Weasley side was threatening to show. "You two need to cut down a bit before you fall unconscious!"

"I know," said Harry quickly, thinking back to his lessons with Shin. "I know."

"What, should we not practise this morning, then?" asked Ron.

"Well, I'd advise against it," said Hermione slowly. "You've been practising and mediating every morning before breakfast for the past two months. But it's really up to you."

"You know, I would rather eat something fresh," Ron speculated, scratching the back of his head. "And all the practising _has_ made me feel more tired . . ."

"That's that then," Hermione injected very fast before Ron or Harry could think to say anything. "We'll go to the bakery early and eat a hot breakfast there. What do you say?"

"I —" Harry began.

"Good," said Hermione. "I'll pack our belongings. Won't take a moment."

Harry and Ron stood watching bemusedly as their friend bustled around the camp, waving and swishing her wand. In under ten seconds everything was folded, packed, and shrunk.

"Ready," Hermione said, her cheeks flushed. "Let's go."

They Disapparated, appearing in a small alley between a bookstore and the bakery. As they rounded the corner Ron stepped in some dung and had to charm it off discretely, while Harry and Hermione tried not to laugh too hard.

The bakery was small and shabby but smelled wonderful. Harry inhaled deeply, letting the smell of freshly baked bread, hot coffee, and breakfast pastries float up his nose. It was at times like these that he appreciated his life. He knew Ron and Hermione were holding hands under the table — well, they were engaged, so they ought to be — and he did not begrudge them their happiness either. Ron had proposed to Hermione a year or so ago, just when the trio had been about to start their hunt for the Horcruxes. Now, at twenty- one, he supposed they were ready to be married.

It was just . . . everything had taken a very long time. Too long. Harry's training with Shin had consumed him for over half a year, before the Guardian had had to go back to his own dimension. This was lucky on Harry's part, as Voldemort had been suspiciously absent for a year and a half. Not so anymore.

"Thank you." He smiled politely at the waitress, who placed his steaming coffee and toasted sandwich on the table before him.

She battered her eyelashes. "There's salt on the front counter if you want any, love."

"Er," Harry's gaze flitted to her nametag and back again. "I don't think I'll be needing any, Sarah."

"If you're sure . . ." Sarah clearly did not want to leave.

"Yes," said Harry firmly.

She was still hesitating. Ron had had enough. "Clear off," he snapped. "Can't you see the man wants to be left alone?"

Sarah turned scarlet, shot Ron a look of deep displeasure, then whirled and left.

Hermione frowned. "That was a bit harsh, Ronald."

Harry nodded.

"Poor Harry can't help it."

_Wait. What?_ "What can't I help?"

"Yeah," said Ron, turning to frown darkly at his fiancée. "What can't he help?"

Hermione suddenly appeared extremely nervous and jittery. "It's because he's . . . Nothing! Nothing at all," she said, her voice shrill. "Ron, we'll be lucky if that waitress doesn't do something to our food now, with the way you insulted her!"

Ron shrugged. "If she does I'll just curse her."

"You will not!" Hermione latched on quickly, looking grateful to have diverted Ron's attention away from the previous subject. "It's against our laws, remember?"

"I don't care to follow the Ministry anymore, Hermione, especially as it's been taken over by You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters," said Ron, glowering down at the table.

Hermione looked at him wide-eyed.

But Harry's good mood had vanished. Trust his friends' bickering to ruin it. He bit lustily into his toast and set his mind to other things. Like his training. Harry doubted he would get any further than the level he was now on, but that was okay. Nobody could — except perhaps for The Supreme Kai, but only because he had come from another dimension.

He thought back on those eight months of training, and what had happened before that. Shin had offered to teach him to make use of his life energy, claiming it as a thank you gift for Harry helping him to avert an apocalypse. Of course Harry had agreed. An extra way to one-up Voldemort was a good idea in his books. It wasn't until a few months later that he wondered if his use of _Chi_ was "the power the Dark Lord knows not".

Harry had quickly dismissed that, though.

He wasn't very good at manipulating his _Chi_. Not even as good as the characters in Dudley's martial arts films. Harry couldn't jump great distances — only small ones. He couldn't fly — but Voldemort, unbelievably, could, as everyone had found out at the beginning of the year when he had shown up in Diagon Alley and tried to kill Harry by swooping in through a Gringotts' window.

But that wasn't the only reason Harry had dismissed it. The other reason included why Hermione had to carry around Harry's wand all the time. Why Harry wasn't allowed to touch it at all.

It had come as an extreme shock to them all when, upon his first use of the _Lumos_ spell in this dimension, he'd lit up the entire Burrow. Shin had explained that his magic had changed now. That his very basic molecular structure had changed ever so slightly due to travelling between the two dimensions and experiencing the full influx of the different intercepting energies. His magic, therefore, was now a heck of a lot more powerful. Not as powerful as it had been in Shin's dimension — not as volatile and uncontrollable — but a little more powerful than Dumbledore's level without needing to use his wand. He would be fine if he didn't use his wand. He would be normal, or as close to normal as he could get. He hadn't needed to use his wand for a year and a half now.

Harry took a sip of coffee as the waitress placed Ron and Hermione's meals in front of them. Feeling a little guilty at Ron's rudeness earlier, he gave her a hesitant smile. She leered back at him. He quickly looked down into his cup. He was not looking for romance now. He had all but given up on it in his seventh year. Had that really only been three years ago? It felt longer, somehow.

Hermione, after taking a sip from her teacup, cleared her throat. "So, I think we should go over our plans once more." She waited until Harry and Ron uttered unenthusiastic murmurs of assent, before continuing. "You both have to admit that we're sort of dithering right now."

Ron snorted. "If you mean because we don't know where the next Horcrux is —"

"Shhhhh!" Hermione hissed, looking around wildly.

Ron stared, agape, at her. "They're only muggles. It's not like they'd know what a —"

"— quiet —"

"— Horcrux is," Ron finished.

Hermione glared at him. "As I was saying: we're dithering right now. Not really doing anything — not counting your training of course — so I think we should go back to Grimmauld Place. Just until we figure out where the next you-know-what is."

Ron stared down at his clasped hands. "Look: I still think we ought to do what I suggested last week. Don't say anything," Ron instilled, as Hermione opened her mouth to complain. She shut it, scowling. "I just think we should make use of the tools we have. If it'll help us, then why not use it."

"Messing with time is a seriously bad idea, Ronald," Hermione snapped.

"You and Harry did it in third year," Ron shot back.

"This isn't the same!" said Hermione, cheeks turning red. "If we used Harry's dimensional turner, we'd go back too far into the past! At least forty years — isn't that about when You-Know-Who made his first you-know-what? Who knows what we could change. Reality as we know it could shift without us even remembering it! Think of the repercussions: Harry might end up in Slytherin. _We_ might end up in Slytherin! Someone who shouldn't have died could! Don't you see? It's too dangerous, Ron."

"But we wouldn't be actually changing anything. We'll just spy on You-Know-Who until we work out where he put the Horcruxes. Simple."

"Oh, and I'm sure the Dark Lord wouldn't be able sense an invisibility cloak or spell," said Hermione dryly.

"What do you think, Harry?" asked Ron suddenly.

Harry opened his mouth. Then closed it. Ron's idea was intriguing, he had to admit, but like Hermione had said, there would be all sorts of repercussions. In order to use Shin's dimensional turner they'd first have to travel to Shin's dimension, then travel back again. At which point they'd be wandering around 1950's Britain. They might get stuck. They might die. Anything at all might happen. Harry did not want to chance it. Not to mention that he rather thought Ron had only brought up this idea in order to get more powerful magic, like Harry had done. Harry wouldn't mention this, though.

"I don't think it's a good idea," he said reluctantly.

Ron's brows flew up. "What? But then why did that supreme bloke give it to you at all? I thought he gave it to you so you could use it!"

"Yes, if I desperately needed it." Harry hated feeling this irritated, but Ron was getting on his nerves. "Like, to retire in that other dimension or something, if I wanted to."

"Then how do you suggest we find the Horcruxes?"

"I don't know!" Harry burst out. "I think — I think we should go with Hermione's plan. We should go to Grimmauld Place for now, think things through. There's bound to be some clues there."

Ron looked angry and betrayed, but did not venture to say anything more. Harry sighed in relief. Arguing this early in the morning was never pleasant, and Ron's propensity to not drop a subject when the other occupants around the table clearly didn't want to talk about it, was sometimes annoying. Today even more so.

At times like these Harry wished he were back in the other dimension. At least people there were laid back. Bizzare, yes, but just the right amount of bizarre.

How shocked he'd been when Shin had taken Harry back home after his battle with Babadi. They had ended up in front of Privet Drive in a glow of light, and something had rolled out of Shin's hand. Something with glistening purple sand surrounded by delicate gold and glass. Harry had known immediately what had been going on. Sure enough — just after Harry had explained to Shin, and urged him to act accordingly — the door had opened and the other Harry had taken a step out, crushing the turner under his foot.

Shin had then thrown a blast of white light at his other self, who had vanished.

He had experienced something similar at the end of his third year, but that didn't mean that he wasn't fazed by the whole thing.

He went back to nibbling on his toast. He, Ron, and Hermione would go to Grimmauld Place. Their hunt for the latest Horcrux was getting them nowhere fast. They needed to research.

"Pass the salt, Ron."

"You don't like salt."

"I just said that to get rid of the waitress."

The End.

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A/N: The end at last. I want to give a massive thank you to all those who never gave up on this story and kept reviewing diligently every chapter or every other chapter. I never expected when I started this that I would receive so much feedback. This chapter is dedicated to all those who ever reviewed this story. If it weren't for your thoughts, your prods, your frustrations, your positive words, I doubt I ever would have finished _Veni Vidi_ this soon.

This story was the last in a long line of others that I've yet to finish, but it was the first to be completed. Thus, it's been frustrating — especially in those seven months where I'd ceased to exist. I did, however, enjoy thinking up the plot. _DragonBall Z_ has been my favourite anime cartoon ever since I was a child, and _Harry Potter_ . . . well that speaks for itself. I took the opportunity to cross over two of my most-loved fandoms and I hope it was worth it.

Thank you all.

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